The Girl with Red Hair
by PhantomlikeGirl
Summary: Ross is someone who's run away from a mistake. He seeks shelter in a small remote town by the coast side, but all he desires is quietness and ignorance towards others. But when he meets the people in this town, his life will change. Gradually. Little by little.
1. Ross against the town

**1.**

I was waiting in the lobby from the motel, in order to get the time and check in at it, when I realized that there would be no end to the conversation going on at the counter between the receptionist and the person coming over to bring up a fresh supply of necessities for the place. They seemed to know each other so well, I found it almost impossible to interfere, especially since they changed the subject from personal to business and there was no telling when one coming over as guest could interrupt, so as not to sound too rude about it.

So I rolled my eyes, feeling that I would lose my patience soon enough and I walked up through the small main hall, heading for the exit, leaving my luggage behind and uncaring whether I would be observed or not.

The weather was fine here and although it was not entirely sunny, it was warm and welcoming enough. The area was small and the town looked like the kind of place where everyone knew each other and everyone seemed to feel safe for that matter. It looked like the kind of place in which I'd feel safely hidden and locked away from the outside world.

There would be no one knowing me for a time being, before I'd become one of them.

I stepped outside into the warm cloudy weather and I could smell the scent of the ocean nearby, but I could not tell which side it would be situated against the town. There were people wandering about the streets, but none seemed bothered by my new presence and I suspected that was because no one had noticed me lurking around long enough. Perhaps they assumed that I would be just another one of those tourists coming to bathe under the sunlight and enjoy some swimming exercises before the cold winter settled in.

I walked away from the front garden of the model, a classy kind of building, with three floors and the restaurant localized underground. There were several cars parked by, the fancy kind, owned undoubtedly by one of the richest folks in town and I doubted they would even bother to ask about my whereabouts, had they spotted me around.

The church was situated directly across the street, one of the only ones larger enough to fit the town and split it in two. There was the train station and a school nearby, but the quietest was, of course, the church building, with its imposing bell tower and its large front garden. Behind it, undoubted, lied the town cemetery, but there were also a few foyers located nearby, for those who wished to rest after a morning sermon or have a quick private chat with the priest before entering the church.

The church doors were open and there was a local priest dressed in holy cloak speaking to one of the townsmen, but none of them looked at me. There was a group of middle-aged women walking up a golden retriever and chatting to each other. When they saw the priest and the other townsman, they greeted them joyfully and both men looked at them frowning, before the nodded.

Both of them were followed by a young woman dressed in black, with her hair caught up behind I a dark reddish dyed colour. She did not speak or look at the two persons, but she did look at the motel and I assumed she had noticed me as well.

As soon as she looked away, she walked on, but the townsman speaking to the priest suddenly seemed to call the three women up and only the young one stopped and turned around. The man waved at her with one arm towards the motel and then he eyed the dog being held by the older women. I could hear him speak to her, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. She seemed to listen carefully, before she nodded and then the man saluted the priest and walked up to her. As soon as he reached her, he pushed her around with his arm gently, and now they faced the motel.

'… Thanks a bunch, my sweet, I always knew you wouldn't let me down. I suppose there's a reason why old Benson likes you anyway. Now, I know you don't like 'im much, Rita, but he's a sweetheart when he knows you're around. Sure it's not a bother if you walk him by a couple o' hours?'

As he said this, they both reached me and now walked up the small paved trace to the entrance towards the motel.

He glanced at me once, before he frowned and then he stopped in his tracks and stared at me rather curiously. I nodded at him greeting, with my lips pressed together.

'Oh! Well, hello there!' he said.

'Hello to you too', I said.

'Fine weather this is for touring, is it, Mr. uh…'

'Turner. Ross Turner.'

'Oh. Uh, well, nice to meet you, Mr. turner, the name's Merryweather. Everyone calls me Forrester, though and you're welcome too, if you'll say we're neighbours.'

'Come again?' I frowned confused.

'Well, I suspect you're here for the night, ain't you?'

'Oh, uh, yes, I think so.'

He nodded and then she frowned. 'Keeping you up, are they, huh? For how long have you been waiting, Mr. Turner?'

'W-well not for long, really.'

But he waved me off before I could say another word. 'It's fine, I'll handle this! Uh, Rita, how about you say hello to the lad here? Ahem, Mr. Turner, this here is Rita Owens. She's got a tongue f her own, but I suppose she's old-fashioned, waiting for someone's introduction around. If you get my point. alright, my dear, I'll send Benson in.'

The man walked up in the entrance hallway from the motel, while I was left to stare at him frowning and then turned around to the woman. She had a pair of fine emerald eyes and a gush of died dark red hair, but her skin was pale and she had freckles around her nose and at the top of her cheeks. She was not particularly good looking from my angle of view, because she had a constant frown, but she looked considerably younger than myself and I guess she could break a heart or two if she wanted to. When she looked at me frowning, I nodded.

'Uhm, you can call me Ross.'

And then I startled visibly, while a large black dog appeared from the entrance and began barking at me madly. It had a white snout, suggesting that it was old-aged, but his muscular constitution and its lack of tail or the scar against its right eye also presumed that it used to be a fight dog before the end of its glorious days. The man holding firmly from its leash although not too firmly – because the animal seemed strong enough – was the Merryweather fellow and he seemed to shout at the dog – called Benson – as if the beast would listen to him under the howling of its strong barking.

I had to step away from it, fearing that it might break the leash, while its owner stared at me and smiled. 'Not to worry, Mr. Turner, not to worry, he's a loud-mouth, but a sweet-talker all the same. Here you go, Rita, thanks a bunch, lassie.'

He passed the leash onto the woman's hands, while she nodded and then the dog turned its attention to her. As soon as it bumped its growling snout against her slap, it growled slower, but smelled her scent and calmed down instantly.

'Just bring him up at about tea-time, my dear.'

He handed her the muzzle and she bent down to put it on the dog's head. For a few seconds, I assumed it would make a jump for her neck. As soon as she was done, she nodded and frowning, she grabbed the dog by the collar, pulling it aside. It seemed liked she knew her rough way around the animal, for she did not seem in the least bit afraid of it.

'Alright, Mr. Forrester. Come on, Benson.'

And then she looked up at me frowning and nodded. 'Mr. Turner…'

'Oh, you heard the man, Rita, you can call him by his given name. Don't you worry, Turner, she's a classy, you can call her Rita, she's sometimes rude like that.'

'I suppose so', I said, without having anything to say, but I could see the woman turning around, not in the least bothered by the man's odd and intimate remark about her good behavior. It almost felt as if she could not care less whether she would be considered rude or not.

The man smiled to me. 'Alright, Turner, I spoke up at the reception, they're ready to have you in. Need any help with the luggage? I couldn't help noticing they were standing by the side of the table by the counter.'

'I would, if you could, sir, yes.'

'Alrightey, lad, let's head on.'

I had settled in in less than fifteen minutes. It seemed that Merryweather had been an old client of the motel, for even the receptionist took his advice into consideration, while he spoke to her and had her help me with the check-in. the receptionist was a young woman of twenty-something with a pair of the prettiest dark brown eyes I had ever seen. Even when she smiled guiltily to me, I could not contain myself from smiling back easily, although my interest in her was completely inexistent for the time being.

The badge attached to the breast from her white blouse wrote down the name of Gail and I thought that was a name which suited her finely. She looked at least ten years my junior, but I could expect that she already was betrothed to someone, for she had a pleasant face and a slim figure.

Merryweather would have wanted that I had my luggage brought in my room and then I come down and enjoy a drink or two with him by the small bar beside the reception, in the small hallway, but I considered wasting some time upstairs, in hope that perhaps the man would figure out on his own that I was not interested in such an invitation.

The room was small, containing one single bed and a small one-person wardrobe, with yet a smaller table and a few armchairs. It suited a person such as myself, who would care less about the decorations of the room I stayed in, lest it presented a fitting bed for a fine sleep. The motel was located close to the seaside, and the view from my small one-person balcony aimed at the vast ocean stretching up against a blazing white cloudy sky, while the small waves looked like moving pearls, some few good feet away from the entrance to the motel.

The beachside here was pebbly and rough, but there were a few people roaming about, walking in small groups, and there was also the woman I had seen before, waking Merryweather's dog.

There was a young man beside her, and yet another older one, both of them speaking animatedly, while she kept to herself and the dog she was appointed to take care of.

I tried the small bathtub from inside the small bathroom. The water took a while to warm up, but it was enough for me to enjoy a brief shower and then take up the fresh pair of towels to dry up. There was also a very small TV screen, nothing fancy, everything old, but functional. There was nothing special on TV, however, so I changed in a new set of clothes and aimed for downstairs.

There were several other people gathered up in the hallway, the same two men from the beachside, that I had seen from the window to my room, and of course, Merryweather accompanied by a pair of young women. They looked in their late thirties, and one of them wore a pair of large glasses.

They each sat by the tables at the entrance to the motel and since no one came around for check-in, the receptionist was with them, serving them a few drinks.

I tried avoiding them, as I came down the stairs, but just as I made my way through the entrance hall, I bumped into Rita and by accident, I touched her shoulders, avoiding that I trip and fall back. She seemed burned off by the touch and glanced at me piercingly.

'Oh, uh, sorry!'

I quickly released her shoulders and I felt a growling at my feet. I stepped back, for Benson was not the sort of dog to anger. The woman squinted at me, but said nothing, yet my cover had been blown off.

'Oh! Turner! You came down! Finally! Come on over, sit with us for a while! And Rita's with you, how nice!'

'Uhm, Mr. Merryweather, would you be kind enough to leave your dog outside we cannot have a pet in the motel.'

'Oh, yes, of course, Gail, you're very right uhm… Rita, dear, would you be so kind…?'

Without commenting anything, the woman beside me, turned around and pulled the dog away from the entrance hall, while I was ushered to come inside.

'Now, there's a good lad! Come sit by my table, I'll introduce you to everyone.'

He took me in as a father would to his son and he first pushed me in front of a table where the women and one of the men sat down. They each smiled and stood up.

'Now, this here is Mr. Turner. Ross, wasn't it, lad? This here is Reverent Bonneville, and these young ladies are Jennifer and Jolene Collins. They are sisters and they are both aspiring painters.'

We nodded one to the other and greeted each other.

'It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Turner!' the reverent said, while we sat down on the chairs and Gail brought me a glass of water. 'May I say, you don't seem familiar to the area. Is this the first time you've travelled these parts?'

'Yes, something like that. I figured a small change would do me good.'

'Where have you come from?'

'From London.'

'Well, that's a very long way!'

'How is London? I've heard it's gotten more crowded than ever, but I haven't seen it in years.'

They bombarded me with questions, until I was unable to answer all at the same time, so Merryweather figured that it would have been time I had been introduced to yet another table of guests. This time, the other man was a doctor Morrison, and he seemed of the same age as Merryweather. They looked like they knew each other and their way of speaking was imposing and under control. It looked like the pair ruled above the others because they gave the air that they would be richer than anyone else.

Gail barely kept up to their order and it also took a while before Rita came in without the black dog she was supposed to take care of. She was brushing away the possible dust from her dress as she came in, and everyone was aiming questions at me, when Merryweather asked her to stay for a few minutes, before she headed home.

She came by without saying much and she took a seat at the table with the doctor and Merryweather. 'How's your father, Rita? I heard he's had a nasty seizure this week. Morrison here tells me we should prepare for the worst in any case.'

'Now, I didn't exactly say it like this, the man's fit as a fiddle, but he refuses to eat and that would not do any good to his health. Have you managed to get him to eat anything, my dear?'

'He refuses to do that each time I serve him anything.'

'That's a shame on the man! why, if I were any more allowed in his house, I would give him a few kicks of my own, bring him to his senses.'

'That isn't a way to talk, Forrester, especially since there's a lady in question, particularly the subject's daughter.'

'Look, I'm not ashamed to say it, but I think there would be someone to talk to him, snap in some sense into his head. This girl's got nothing to be blamed of.'

'This would be no place to discuss this kind of matter. Rita, my dear, are you staying long? I could drive you home.'

'I'd prefer walking.'

'Alright! I'm off then. Mr. Turner, it was very nice to meet you, and I hope that we meet in no other circumstances than the best ones.'

I smiled to him and nodded. 'Yes, I hope so, Mr. Morrison.'

I hadn't had the chance to drink a single sip from my glass of water, so when Gail came by the table, she tried picking up my glass, imagining I'd emptied it, but she smiled when she convinced herself that she had been wrong. She glanced at me quickly and I smiled to her in return.

'Uhm, would you mind if I set off for a walk through the street? I need some fresh air', I added, while I stood up suddenly, as if in fear that I would be retained longer if I waited for an answer from their side.

'That's a fine idea, Turner, here's a good example of a spirited mind!'

I smiled and then I wished them all a fine night while I walked up to the entrance hall and passed by Gail. I nodded to her and she smiled in return, before she reached the reception and sat on her chair.

I continued by way and walked out from the motel, facing now the main road, heading towards down town. There was a small paved pathway leading towards the beach and towards the small avenue along the coast, so I followed that path instead. By this time, there was still light outside, but the weather got chillier, so I shivered a little, before I rubbed my hands against my arms to warm up.

The place looked lonely and grim, but there were a few people walking by. I could see there was a female figure walking up against the side of the avenue, passing people by ignorantly, and I could recognize her from the dress.

There was a man passing by with a bicycle, speeding up considerably along the pathway and he shouted a few times for people to move away from his road, including myself. Watching him from behind, he reminded me of the man id hit a few years back, when I was foolish and disconsiderate of the outer world, when I believed that I would live forever, while others would grow old and wither off long before my time.

I looked back and I could see that the motel looked now very small and insignificant, compared to other buildings I'd seen throughout my lifetime. This northern part of the island was new to me and I daresay I hope di would have reached the border with Scotland, but the Scots were the chatty sort, chattier than Irish, in my opinion. I was born and raised in Dublin until I was five and my parents decided to divorce one another. By that time, I had already considered myself unique, special and that the world should fall at anyone's feet who considered themselves exceptional.

The truth was that I had been afraid to admit to myself that my life would be as meaningless as anyone else's for I had no special talent, nor any will of my own to become better. The feeling of inner despair culminated once I drove off drunk and inebriated with the desire to do foolish, impulsive things. After the incident, the world I lived in changed, for everyone considered that I had been a fool before, yet this time, a fooler fool than I had ever been.

I could see the man's face in my mind, as I stared at the sea and breathed in the cold breeze.

I rubbed my hands against my shoulders and my arms, before I realized that the number of people passing me by was decreasing considerably. I looked around and considered that perhaps I'd gotten lost, for the motel was no longer in my sight and the place I'd reached aimlessly was unknown to me. There was no one to ask where I was or how I could return to my place, and the clouds had darkened considerably before I realized that there would be heavy rain.

I turned and backed away, but the path seemed senseless to me now. There was no doubt about it, I had gotten lost on the first day of my coming here. So instead of panicking, I began growling at myself, and a lump formed at my neck, as if I were struggling not to look embarrassed, ashamed or ridiculous.

I walked a few feet ahead and then when the road reached the dead-end, so did the avenue I walked on and I found myself turning around to walk back to where I came from. So I walked on and on until the small buildings form the stores and the small houses appeared in sight. I turned my head several times to realize that the motel was no longer in my vision of sight, and so were the few people around. Most were heading for shelter, for when I reached the few buildings and closed-in stores, the rain had begun shortly. Now, I was running down aiming for shelter myself, but none of the stores had a large roof enough to offer any. I got soaked up in a few minutes, for the rain began to fall heavily, as if angered on myself. This time, I began swearing and cursing myself for my wretched desire to dissociate with people, in my attempt at keeping them away from hurting me.

And as soon as I reached a dead end and was forced to rethink the strategy, I heard someone close the door from an alley nearby and I ran off towards the place, in hopes that the person would have shelter to offer. There was a woman hiding under the worn-out umbrella of a man's and she seemed to lock the place down, a small dry goods store, before I came by and stopped her.

'Excuse me! I'm sorry to bother but… - !'

She was holding up the umbrella, but I could see form under the dim light from the entrance door to the store that this woman was the very same person from the first I'd met as I arrived here. 'Oh, uh, it's you…'

Rita raised one eyebrow to me, holding up the umbrella above her head. She seemed to refuse the common sense of sharing it with me.

'I'd like to think I am not all that bad looking, Mr. Turner.'

'N-no, I didn't mean…! Uh, would it be possible if I came inside until the storm's stopped?'

She framed me from head to toe disconcentrated, before she pressed her lips. 'Very well.'

And then she pulled up a bunch of keys and unlocked the door to the store. When she pushed the door open, a smell of old and dust came out, attracted by the freshness from the rain outside.

We came in and she turned on the lights, while I shut the door behind me and shivered away the drench from my clothes. 'Oh, God! Thanks.'

She said nothing, but settled the umbrella aside and moved about towards the counter. I looked around me and noticed the store finally. There were several shelves surrounding the counter, filled with colourful zippers, buttons and ribbons, laces, pieces of leather and of cotton, fabrics clustered in plastic or in carton boxes, wrapped up in plastic or in metal containers, there were several mannequins dressed fully in clothes, men's costumes and shirts, ties and trousers, women's dresses, skirts, blouses, and stockings. There were so many colourful things, materials and decorations exclusively for clothing, I could hardly believe anyone would know exactly where to find anything.

As I looked around attentively, I felt the smell of old aged-clothing, coming from the fairly veteran mannequins and also the smell of dust from the window sill and the counter. It looked like one of those old stores passed on from one generation to another, as the business rolled on changing through time, adapting to the demands of time and of ages.

Rita sat by the counter, pulling up a large leather-bound register book, which she then began to search with the tip from an old pencil. I walked about, wandering through the mannequins and the materials, the cloths and the decorations, as if this had bene one of the few stores I'd ever seen so colourful since now.

I startled visibly, just before I bumped into one of those cracked-face mannequins and I almost pushed it aside, just before I caught its bashed up face in my hands and settled it firmly on its position. There was a large clock ticking in the chamber and the place looked large enough to fit a considerable amount of clients at the same time. Behind the counter, there were large velvety curtains hiding away some secret compartments or chambers I undoubted believed were there.

'Is this place yours?'

'My father's.'

'It looks very old-fashioned, if I say so.'

I pressed my eyes shut, unbelieving at the stupidity I'd just spoken. 'What I meant to say was that the place looks old.'

She said nothing, but kept on staring at the register, so I came closer and found a small chair by the other side of the counter. I sat on it, trying to concentrate on drying up, but the place with its colours stole my sight each time. It looked very pretty and bohemian, even if it were not my style.

'Would you mind giving me a towel or something?'

'I'm not in the habit of keeping up towels in the store, Mr. Turner.'

I smiled. 'You can call me Ross, you know. And I'm sure you could find something I could dry my face with.'

I saw that she paid no attention to me, so I placed one of my fingers against the register. Wet as it was, the finger touched a written line from the register, while I asked "What is this?", but before I could continue, the woman shut the register book in a loud slap, snapping my finger in.

'Auch!'

She stared at me frowning as if a mother did to a misbehaving child.

'You caught my finger up, Rita!'

'You nearly wiped out a person's name from the register with your wet hand.'

'It was my finger and I doubt it would make a difference.'

'It would. The person's been dead for the past seventy years.'

I opened my mouth to speak, but the number of years she'd spoken of dwindled against my memory. 'Did you say seventy years?'

'I'm not in the habit of repeating myself, Mr. Turner.'

'Ross. So your place is this old?'

She held the register book in her hands carefully, not replying. Instead, she bent down against the counter and hid the book somewhere over there. When she straightened up, I was given a piece of old towel, which looked suitable enough for drying my face over.

'Thanks.'

There was a pause, during which she turned around and walked away from the counter. She was standing by the door staring at the rain when I finished with the towel and placed it on the counter. 'Thank you for this.'

She said nothing, but kept staring at the rain, so I began feeling awkward. 'I, uh… I apologize for the disruption. But I really needed sheltering. I was having a walk on my own and I got lost, so…'

I puffed amused. 'It's funny, I'm usually careful where I wander off to, but I suppose this time, I did not feel like it.'

She turned around and walked up to the counter. 'I'm really sorry for disturbing you.'

'I'll walk you to the motel.'

'No, really, it's fine.'

She frowned hard at me. 'It's not. I need to be home right now and you are keeping me here. The rain's settled down, I can take you to the motel. That way, next time you will know your way and you won't bother anyone else.'

I frowned at her words, at the manner of harshness they had been spoken, but I quickly resumed my thinking that Merryweather had warned me of this woman being rude. But I could not read any spitefulness against her gaze, which confused me into believing that perhaps this simply was the kind of person she was.

She picked up her umbrella and waited for me by the entrance, giving me an expectant glance.

I breathed hard to let her know of her disturbing rush, but we finally managed to walk on the streets within a few minutes, after she had locked the place back on. She was now taking me back onto the places I had walked passed by before and she did not seem to speak or want to converse of anything. Rita looked like the quiet type, unprovoked except when she wished for provocation.

'So, the store belongs to your father… and, uhm, there are people there who've signed in a long time ago. Uhm, had it passed down from generation to generation?'

'Something of it.'

'Then, I suppose it would be yours once uhm…'

'It would be my brother's.'

I nodded surprised. 'Oh, brother… so you have an older brother then?'

She looked up at me frowning. 'Yes.'

I nodded and felt the need to speak in return: 'I think that's fine. I am single and I think I would have wanted to have a brother. Could I ask your brother's name?'

'Jules.'

'Jules… has your family lived here long enough?'

'Long enough.'

I opened my mouth to speak, but the comment unsettled me, so I looked away. 'Quite the chatty type, aren't we…'

' _Quite_ the opposite, Mr. Turner. And here is where I leave you.'

'You can call me Ross.'

'I can, but I wish not to. Just walk on straight ahead, you will see the motel within a few feet away. A good evening to you, Mr. Turner.'

And without waiting for my reply, she turned around and walked away without looking back, holding the umbrella in one hand, although now all the rain had ceased. I turned around to thank her, but I saw her walking away quickly, and soon I breathed in and followed her instructions, reaching the motel.

 **2.**

On the following day, to my surprise, I woke up earlier than I expected, at about seven or so and as I came down for breakfast, the dining chamber was almost empty, but the few guests inside were dressed suits-and-ties, quite clean, shaved and ready for church.

Merryweather was not around, but there were the two young women from last night I had been introduced to as Jennifer and Jolene Collins, the two painters. I wasn't sure just how good they were, since I'd never heard of them before, but perhaps they were local artists. They nodded in my direction when they noticed me and when I smile din return, Jolene seemed to gesture from her head that I join them. I smiled confused and preferred to return to the reception area where I found Gail wearing a lively dress which suited her finely. She was very pretty and wore light make-up, undoubtedly she seemed to be prepared to step outside from a while.

'Uhm, hello!'

'Oh, Hello, Mr. Turner!'

'It's fine, you can call me Ross. Uhm, can you tell me if I'm late for breakfast or something?'

Gail stared at me confused and then she turned her head to face the clock against the entrance wall. 'Uhm, n-no, not exactly. Oh! Do you mean to ask why you and the Collins sisters are the only ones around? Well, everyone's getting ready for church, I suppose.'

She looked around and leaned her head forward to whisper. 'If you ask me, these two are very odd, but I guess that is simply because they are, uhm, artistic. Otherwise, out here in this place, we make a habit of meeting up every Sunday morning for Rev Bonneville's sermon. Uhm, would you like to join… Ross?'

It took her a while to say my name, but I suspected it was because she found it rather hard to address one of her clients by their first name. I smiled encouragingly and made a small face. 'Uhm, I uh… well actually, why not? is that why you are not wearing the motel uniform today?'

She smiled and there was red in her cheeks for a few seconds. 'Well, y-yes. Would you like to come now? I was just leaving. Someone will take my place at the reception, though, if you ever chose to return to the motel.'

'It's fine, I'm not going to turn back', I answered nodding and then I brushed my clothes and smoothed them up. We walked up to the entrance door, before I asked smiling whether I was dressed properly for church. I was never in the habit of listening to sermons or visit the church once a week, but I was curious to see the townsmen's habits, especially during weekends. Having a nice female company like Gail's added all the more to the charm.

She was very shy and considerably younger than I, but she had a fresh mind and she seemed to know a lot about today's music and movies. We chatted about London and about this small town, and while we walked up to the church, she even took me on a small guided tour of it, pointing out the biggest attractions and the most well-known among townsmen.

She was light-brown haired and dark brown-eyed, with a pair of plumb fresh lips and a piece of her own mind. She spoke little, but she was excessively polite, so I became very familiar with her within minutes. In fact, if anything, as soon as I appeared interested in something local about the town, she seemed to speak more vividly, a sign that she might like the way she lived up to now in this small, secluded place.

I was wearing a light grey buttoned shirt and a dark brown suit, and the morning felt chillier than usual, so I offered to give her the coat when she gave way to a small shiver running down her spine. She accepted shyly, although at first she seemed hesitant to do so. After this, we changed the subject, so she would not end up speaking about the town and soon enough, we reached the church, which was a large dark grey building, made entirely out of wood, large enough to fit in a few 50 people since, with a large green space and the cemetery spreading ahead, just behind it.

Obviously, we could have reached it within minutes, but I suspected Gail had taken up a small detour, just so she would show me around and give me a clue or two about the town itself.

There was a small crowd gathered up at the entrance, and the Rev was found on the entrance stairs, speaking to a few locals, before he welcomed us inside. When I saw him and he saw me back, he nodded greeting me surprised, as if he hadn't expected to see me there.

As soon as we came in, Gail naturally went for the nearest seats to the altar and the spot where the Rev would hold up his sermon, but I was a rather quiet person and I wasn't all that religious, which is why I preferred staying behind. By this time, both sisters Collins had arrived, although they sat in different places.

When Jennifer noticed me looking around, she smiled and said: 'Ross, come sit by my side. Unless you're looking for a seat more to the front…'

'Oh, uh, no, I'm fine here. Thanks, Jennifer.'

She sat three rows away from the exit door and the seat closest to the edge was vacant, therefore I took it without remorse.

'I must confess you don't really look like the church person', she added after I sat by her side. My coat was still on Gail's possession, so I stared at the room in search for her, but I admitted to myself that it would have been foolish to stand up, go to her and ask her to return the clothing to me.

'Excuse me?'

'I said that I am surprised to see you a church person. You certain do not look like one.'

'Oh, uh, I'm not actually. But I came in with Gail and she was heading for the church so I said to myself "Why not?"', I smiled comfortable, but I could see now Jennifer was eyeing me strangely, although smiling.

'Oh, I see. It too both of you a while however. I've arrived here with Jolene within ten minutes.'

'Yes, well, uhm, I'm afraid that's my fault. I asked Gail to show me around.'

'I'm sure you did, Ross', she smiled undermining, after which she stared at the altar and the Rev moving about, until everyone took their seats and were ready for the beginning of the sermon.

I ignored her reaction and preferred also concentrating on the priest ahead of me. This person was tall and imposing, the kind of person who would have no difficulty in convincing anyone to turn onto God's way, once he considered this person astray.

Today's sermon was about Liars and the sin of lying. It was nothing special which I had heard of before, but Rev Bonneville's opinion on liars was that if ever we had returned to the Medieval Times, then he would restore the Inquisition and burn sinners to the ground. At least, in my opinion, he looked like the kind of person who poured in kind sweet words, onto leading towards goodness, but at the same time embracing the evil punishment against evil.

'God taught us of truth. Certainly, there is no absolute truth except within His own words. But our mission on this world is to discover these words, to discover His Truth and to protect it, share it, spread it across the four corners of this world.'

'Liars are of any kind and they are beside you. They come in close with our enemies, yet, just as the Lord had given ith each His love and embrace, we should in return do the very same thing. He had taught us that we should love thy enemies and liars all the same, hat we should turn the other cheek, for we will become His most beloved lambs.'

The sermon went on for another forty-five minutes until I felt overwhelmed over the fact that this man preached about the evil of lying, but not of its necessities sometimes. He kept the good coming out of lying to himself, while he shared the punishment coming onto someone who could ever dare to lie about something, about anything, and while I looked around the room, I could see mostly older folks looking at him eagerly, as if they had been brought up to catch these wrongdoers and bring them to justice. Most of those present there, young and in fear of God, felt a little embarrassed and rubbed their hands one against the other. And while I trace their faces slowly, pretending to listen to the sermon, I met with Rita's.

She was looking down, for some reason, and there was nothing to suggest that she even believed the words of the reverent. She sat by the side of the rows of chairs, the more centrally-located line and she seemed to have come accompanied by an older man, in his late thirties, with a pair of hawk-like eyes and dressed in a clean cut, elegant suit. His face reminded me of someone very familiar, but I could not quiet put my finger into it.

'Uhm, who is that person sitting beside Rita Owens?' I whispered in Jennifer's ears and she looked at me secretively, before she turned her head in Rita's direction. Finally, she nodded.

'Well, that's her older brother, Jules. He's actually her step-brother. adopted. I mean her. She is adopted. Her parents sold her a long time ago to Old man Owens. He's a quite a funny character, if you ask me. I asked him once if I could do a portrait of him, but he refused. He seems to enjoy refusing many things.'

'Is he older than she is?'

'By a good ten years, I believe. Let me think, uhm… he's come back from the states two years ago and he is now uh… thirty-three… yes, he is a decade her senior.'

So, Rita was twenty-three and she was at least eight years my junior. By all means, she could have been Gail's age, who was twenty-one. Comparing them together, however, would have resulted in considering Rita too old for her age, while Gail too young of hers. One had been rude and mature-pretending, while the other seemed childish and overly-polite.

'Jules was due to inherit the clothing firm down town – I'm sure you've seen it by now, Ross – but there was a raw between father and son, so now the father refuses to eat, while the son refuses to talk about it. That place has been passed on from generation to generation. The old man would not leave it to Rita, because she's not his bloodline.'

I nodded and considered saying "Hello!" to them, after the sermon, but once it was done, everyone stood up and walked out, and soon enough, both Rita and her brother were to be unseen. For some reason, I kept looking for her in hopes that I would be able to meet her, but I was quickly acaparated by Re Bonneville and Dr. Morrison. They spoke little with me, but kept me busy for a while, until I met with Gail and she thanked me for the coat. She returned to the motel after this, while I was asked by Jennifer if I could join her and her sister to a ride through down town, while they bought necessities for painting.

I agreed smiling, but wondered why I had cared so much to see Rita after the sermon.

I met with her accidentally, while we were down town and the two sisters spoke to me about painting and about art in general. She was walking Merryweather's dog on a leash and with a muzzle against its snout.

'Oh, hello, Rita, how are you? Still walking My. Merryweather's dog, I see?' Jennifer said, while we stopped by the side of the road to chat.

Rita said nothing, but she nodded, while she pulled the dog's leash, once it tried reaching for my foot to smell my clothing. The women spoke little to her, until Jolene said: 'Say, Rita, I think I've seen your brother at the church. Has he come back from abroad?'

'His studies are over. For the time being.'

'Well, then you must feel very happy to have him home, I suppose.'

'He's been gone for a while.'

'And what about your father? How is he? Is his condition serious? There must be something we can do.'

Rita shrugged her shoulders. 'It's his decision entirely. I have nothing to say in the matter, he will not listen to me.'

'Perhaps if you convince Jules to speak to him…'

'There's an old tale about a mule and a monkey…'

'I understand that, Rita, but there must be something that could be done.'

'Time heals all wounds, I suppose.'

The women changed the subject after this, and they ended up criticizing Rev Bonneville's harsh sermon, but once more, both myself and Rita had nothing to say in the matter. After this, Jolene asked if she could come by Rita's store for some shopping and tailor matters, and they both agreed on a date and schedule, before we parted our ways. Rita barely seemed to acknowledge me for some reason, either she refused to look at me.

Just as she passed us by, she dropped a notebook on the ground, and before she bent down to pick it up, I was quicker to the hand and I fetched it. The notebook was small and covered in genuine leather, tied up with a leather strap. 'Here you are.'

She said nothing, but took it and shoved it in the side pocket from her coat. 'I believe it's polite to say "Thank you" in such cases.'

'I would have picked it up myself, Mr. Turner, but you gave me to time or choice.'

'Ross. And I was trying to be helpful.'

'There was no need. Good day!'

And then she turned around and left, while I frowned and the women behind me smiled. 'Is she always this rude?'

'Well, I believe that's because of her father. Step father, that is. But she's a good-willed person, Ross, it's how she is.'


	2. Townsmen against Ross

**3.**

Gail Porter was a very different person in personal life, as oppose to the way she behaved professionally. I'd learned this on the following two days during the weekend, when I took the time to linger on at breakfast and lunch time at the motel. She would be polite, well-mannered and disciplined when in front of clients, as expected from an employee at the motel. But she was in a relationship with a young man called Jack Raynes and he would often come by to visit her at the motel. She would excuse herself for ten to fifteen minutes and I'd often catch her fixing her ruffled hair or clothing, when she returned at the counter. Her smile would be shy and blushing, and she would always give the impression of playing small dirty games whenever she'd meet up with her boyfriend.

Merryweather seemed to be aware of everyone's personal and professional life around town, including Gail's. once I was enjoying a well-deserved lunch with him in the dining hall and Gail came in to help serving a glass of water for me and Merryweather some coffee, when Jack made his appearance by the window and knocked discreetly, just enough so she alone would spot him. Unfortunately, the old man had hawk eyes and spotted him too, smiling and then I ended up listening to his short introduction of this Jack Raynes, whom he believed to be a good-for-nothing fellow, although Meeryweather's opinions were often made based on first impressions, which, as a general rule, were not entirely solid-grounded.

Jack Raynes was not even a local and just like me, he'd come over one summer looking for a part-time job, which he undertook at a gasoline station situate outside of town. He was non-educated, and bold, he kept on Sir-ing and Mrs-ing everyone, regardless of the age or job description of that person. He was not very talkative, looked very secretive and often gave the impression that h was a bully, but one glance at him and I figured the man might just be a reasonable young fellow.

If I ever considered asking Gail for a walk or two, then I would need to reconsider this, for she and Jack Raynes seemed truly in love with each other. That was until a week later, when she I met with her sulked face at the reception, as I wished her a fine "Good morning". Her eyes were bulky and rather tired, looking as if she could not concentrate on the task at hand. In fact, she would usually be very attentive of what clients told her and rarely did someone had to repeat themselves against her.

This time, she seemed to glance at me like I had been the first person ever to come by the reception in months and she could not even believe that I'd speak her language.

'Uhm, I said "Good morning"', I repeated after I heard her say something like "Huh" (yet another word she would almost never use in front of clients at work).

'Oh, uh, good morning to you too. S-sorry, I, uh, didn't seem to hear very well.'

'It's alright, Gail. Uhm, something wrong?'

'Huh? Oh, uh, n-nothing. Nothing's wrong.'

She shook her head as if she were convincing herself, rather than me. I frowned at her, but considered that sine we were not much close friends, then there would be no reason for me to ask what the matter was with her. The fact was that she looked away almost immediately after she insisted that nothing was going off wrong in her life on this day, so when I reached the dining hall, before I entered, I turned around to look at her and she seemed to be working on the reception table, wiping it off briefly with a piece of cloth. We both startled visibly, when the entrance door opened up and a tall brown-haired man came in. he was handsome and rugged, with the start from a beard showing off at his jaws, but his clothing was clean and very elegant.

He looked around briefly, with a frown at his face and for a split second, he seemed to be looking for someone. He cleared his throat intentionally and then he stepped forward towards the reception.

'Uhm, excuse me, Gail, isn't it?'

She looked up at him quizzically, and then she stared at me as if asking for help. I stepped in expectantly, but at the same time, I considered that the man had no business with me, so I should not give the impression that I was being intrusive.

'Uhm, y-yes, uh, how can I be of service?'

'I'm looking for a Mr. Merryweather. He should be staying at this place. I need a quick word with him.'

'Oh, uh, w-well, I believe he's in the dining hall, having breakfast. I could summon him up, if you like.'

'I'd like a word with him as soon as possible, so if you could possibly…'

'Alright, uhm…'

Gail stared at me quizzically, before she circled around the reception table and then she came in the dining hall. I followed her hesitant, but as I came closer to one of the emptier tables, I turned around to stare at the man in the entrance hall and for a few seconds, his facial features and his stance looked very familiar. He reminded me of… Jules! Jules Owens. This was Rita's older brother.

Merryweaher stood up once Gail spoke to him at the table, and then he took up his cane and followed the trace back to the entrance hall. We met along the way and he smiled to me joyfully: 'Oh, G'morning to you, Turner, seems I got very popular since you came along. Must be some kind of side-effect.'

I smiled jokingly. 'I'm sure it is. Want me to help you?'

'No, I'll be fine, lad, but you could sit by my table, we'll have a chat-about once I finish up with this fellow. Oh! It's… Well, would you look at that, it's Jules Owens! And I bet he's here on either business about his father or about the store itself. Hah! Would you keep Benson company? I'll be back in a minute or two.'

As I sat by the same table, I could see the dog staring down at me and I felt a little scared because of its reactions. A praying dog such as this one would often prove unpredictable, so I tried to behave as normal as possible, but his unpredictability sounded all too threatening for me.

Gail asked what I wanted for breakfast so I ordered a simple omelet and asked her if she could bring in coffee first. I could hear Merryweather arguing with Jules Owens in the hall, but I couldn't exactly hear what they are saying. What I noticed looking around the room was that everyone seemed to eye the couple of men in the entrance hall and that everyone seemed to whisper something to their table companion.

I turned my head around, just when Gail came up with my omelet and coffee.

'Seems like Mr. Merryweather's got a handful with the fellow', she commented as if to herself.

'The argument sounds harsh.'

'The old man can handle himself well, I suppose.'

'Thanks for the coffee, Gail.'

'S-sure', she smiled forcedly, but I could not help thinking that perhaps there was something wrong with her today, for her smile withered off quickly, as she returned to the kitchen and then to the reception area.

The argument lasted for about ten minutes before the old man made his way into the hallway and when he spoke to Gail about something, he shook his head and looked very much distraught. He called Benson to his side angrily and pulled out a leather-made leash to tie it up around the dog's collar and then he went out for a walk. I did not see Merryweather after that, and since I had no other plans for the day, I came up into my room, changed and then I went out for a walk downtown.

By now, I'd grown a little accustomed to the place and I especially preferred the coastline, a viewpoint situated high up on top of a man-made hill from where I could admire the entire town. The place was small, but the houses and the buildings were packed neatly into one line. The main road split the town in two and the centrally-located buildings were mainly the school, the library, the Town hall and a main large square with a small park. The church was located somewhere closer to the side, from which I could also spot the motel and Gail have an argument with Jack behind the building, close to the main road. He seemed to be having a hard time explaining something to her, and so when he grabbed her arm, she jerked it and slapped him on the face.

Rev Bonneville was speaking to one of grave diggers close to the entrance to the cemetery and Merryweather seemed to be approaching them. As soon as they spotted each other, the Rev dismissed the grave digger and came by welcoming Merryweather. The two of them began to have a word.

On the other side, close to where the Owens clothing store was situated, I could see the shape of the tall man called Jules, as he came in and a minute later, his sister came out in a hurry, heading straight through the main square and walking up to the path leading towards the hill.

Looking down from the viewpoint, I could see the two Collins sisters painting a scene as they overviewed the town from a lower elevation and within a few minutes, Rita seemed to run into them. Jolene began conversing with her, but I could not hear what they were saying. Rita seemed to reply something and then she began walking hurriedly towards the wooden stairs leading up to the higher viewpoint.

I looked away from the viewpoint, came down from it and headed for one of the empty benches situated closer to some old rose bushes. I pretended to admire the small rose buds threatening to come out and I heard her footsteps coming uphill, her breathing uneven.

I heard her stop. I pretended to wait for a few seconds, before I turned my head and I saw Rita with her cheeks flushed and her appearance rugged from the upclimbing.

She frowned and spoke nothing, but began to walk ahead towards the viewpoint.

'Oh, hello, Rita! Fancy seeing you here!'

'Perhaps you should pretend that you did not', she replied harshly, while passing me by. I frowned staring at her and noticed that she crossed the viewpoint area and headed straight for an unauthorized pathway through the small woods decorating the hill.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I ended up following her saying: 'That was quite straightforward! Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today?'

'I am not sure, I don't make a schedule out of how I wake up every morning.'

'Having a bad day, Rita?'

She refused to answer, but walked up ahead, until the trees thickened and the area now seemed unfamiliar to me. 'May I ask where you are heading?'

'Somewhere by myself. I believe you have a plan of your own for the day, Mr. Turner.'

I smiled, stopping in my tracks and I stared at her for a few seconds. 'Did you just send me away or something?'

She too stopped and turned her head towards me, frowning. 'If I was not being comprehensive enough… Yes, I believe I was. Where I am going is a business of my own and I don't think it appropriate you following me around. You seem to be following me, aren't you?'

I smile confused. 'Uh… No, I'm not! I just… I didn't think you could walk through this place so leisurely.'

'Wonderful, Mr. Turner, a new lesson learned. Now, if you don't mind, I prefer it if we did not follow the same trail.'

'You are sending me away!' I spoke out smiling unbelievable.

She frowned harder before she looked away and obviously, I could see that she was annoyed by something, yet I could not tell whether it was because of me or something before our encounter.

'If you are following me, Mr. Turner, then yes, I am sending you away. Satisfied?'

'Well, what's the matter anyway? You look upset, something wrong, Rita?'

She looked away and wished me a fine day walking up ahead, but I followed slowly. 'You know you can tell me, if you want to. Seems that whatever it is which annoys you, sounds like very serious and maybe I could be of help.'

'Nothing is wrong Mr. Turner, now stop following me.'

'Ross. And I'm not following you. And also, you're the second person to tell me everything's alright, when you mean exactly the opposite.'

'Perhaps there's a reason why that person and myself have been telling you that.'

Saying this, she continued to walk and I to follow. We reached a more secluded place from the woods and finally we stopped in a small meadow with a small brick-and-cement construction which looked like a pavilion. It was half covered in green and lush ivy, and there was a small paved pathway leading to it from the viewpoint, but throughout time and with lack of attention it had been covered up by leaves, grass and moss.

'Wow, this place looks very nice. I've never seen it before.'

'It used to be very visited when I was a child. But I suppose people nowadays got so used to the town, they refuse to do anymore sightseeing.'

She came inside the small place and I followed. The inside showed stone benches and a stone small table also covered in ivy, but clean enough to provide a resting place. Inside was dark and I looked around tripping on an old ivy root before I decided to sit down and admire the place from within. The cold sunlight fell through the gap from the stone glass-less windows and someone had felt behind an old blanket for people to sit on while having a break inside the place.

'Do you come here often?'

I turned to look at Rita and she stared at the forest through one of the stony windows. 'Sometimes. When I'm angry.'

She was wearing a long black dress with a pair of womanly boots and her pair was pinned to one side like a thirteen-year-old. From behind, she looked voluptuous, but I knew her face to be frowning, rigid and cold-hearted like. She didn't look like the kind of person a man would easily fall in love with, especially since she was rude most of the cases, but I found that gradually, it was how Rita simply was and if anything, it should be considered a trait, for no one would at least except her to lie about her own feelings and opinions or certain matters.

'Are you angry now?'

She turned around and frowned at me. 'I'm not in the habit of discussing my feelings, Mr. Turner.'

'I thought I told you to call me Ross. And maybe if you discussed about them, then you wouldn't be angry anymore.'

I smiled charmingly. 'I'm a good listener, you know.'

She made a face at me. 'Yes, I've heard the way you behave around Mr. Merryweather. He does all the talking, while you just nod and agree. You sometimes give the impression that perhaps you are only doing it out of politeness.'

'Perhaps I am.'

'Perhaps you shouldn't.'

Her reply was immediate and harsh, before she looked away. 'I'm not sure why you'd force yourself into doing something you don't agree with, if you're not bound by it. If you don't like the man's gibberish, then I don't you walk away?'

I smiled. 'Well, I'm not sure if you know anything about common sense, Rita, but I think walking away in the middle of a conversation would mean lack of common curtesy.'

'I am familiar with that, Mr. Turner.'

'Ross.'

I smiled to her because for some reason, she amused me. But Rita seemed to be moving around impatiently and I figured that whatever was upsetting her, it was distressing her greatly.

'Look, Rita, why don't you just sit down and talk about it, if you think it helps.'

'It won't. And it doesn't really concern you.'

'Does it have to do with the fact that your brother came in this morning to see Merryweather?'

She rubbed her hands together. 'Perhaps it does, perhaps it doesn't.'

'You're very easy to read, so I'm going to assume that's what the distress is all about. So I assume it wasn't about the store what your brother wanted to talk about.'

She didn't reply, so I tried a different angle. 'So, how's your Dad?'

'You don't even know him.'

'W-well, I heard he's unwell, I guess. I'm just trying to be nice to you, Rita.'

'I don't need you to, Mr. Turner.'

'Why do you refuse to call me by my first name?'

I stood up from the seat and I turned around to face her. She looked at me frowning, and seemed to straighten up her position. 'Because I don't want to.'

She then unpinned her hair and rearranged it, while I took a step closer and said: 'That sounds like a childish answer to me. Even Gail calls me by my first name, since I've told her to.'

'Maybe it's you who's asking childish questions.' She startled just before she took her hands from her hair and pin, as if I got too close to her.

'You two are of the same age, I gather. I suppose, if she's got her juvenile moments, then so do you.'

'I believe that's a matter of perspective. If you're assuming I might share something with Gail Porter, then you are wrong.'

'Is that so?'

'Yes. And I'd ask you nicely to stop walking towards me, it's very awkward.'

'I'm not walking towards you!'

'Yes, you are. And I'd advise you not to raise your tone in front of me, Mr. Turner, we are not that closely acquainted.'

I looked at her straight through her emerald eyes and I suddenly got the impression that, although she wasn't exceptionally beautiful, Rita Owens had something attractive about her, which kept me still and in her presence. Just like the first times I'd encountered her, I got this feeling that perhaps it would do me well to catch a glimpse of her daily. I'd never met any other woman like her, spiteful, impolite and straightforward. It made me feel impulsive and imprudent, rushing into argument and harsh reply. I backed up before I imagined myself doing something silly, just like I usually did in these cases when I felt provoked, tempted.

'I'm, uh, sorry about that. I guess I thought you needed someone to listen.'

'I'm not in the habit of sharing my problems.'

I backed away sitting on the stony bench. 'Yeah, uh obviously. I guess I assumed you'd be more like me, sharing your problems in hopes that someone might help out. Well, I… I used to do that before, I mean. Now I don't, I guess. But I thought you would.'

She frowned and brushed her hand through her hair. 'I'm afraid, Mr. Turner, you give me the impression that you'd like us to be friends. Am I right?'

I smiled bitterly. 'Well, alright, I'm play along in the game. Why not? I suppose it's nice to be civil.'

'Very well, you may do as you please. But I have no intention of making you a friend of mine.'

I frowned confused. That was probably the first time I'd hear someone bluntly refuse to get to know me, before knowing me at all. I looked around confused and I was lost for words for a split second. 'W-wow! That was… wow… Rita, that was…'

'Truthful.'

'I'm thinking more "Blunt and rude"', I replied making a face.

She frowned staring me down and straightening her posture. 'I don't think telling the truth should be considered rude. We aren't related or close acquaintances, so I have no reason to be nice to you.'

'Yes, I can see that opinion through', I replied ironically and for a split second, a feeling of disgust overwhelmed me. But as soon as I looked up to show Rita this, I saw that she was looking away and I considered that maybe she was right in some instance. After all, we knew little of each other and perhaps what she left against society was that she should not be bound by the same curtesy rules as others.

'Do you always tell the truth, Rita?'

'What's the point in lying? Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to return to the store.'

And then she walked up to the exit and carried on, without looking back or saying "Goodbye". Instead, I was left alone to dwell on her words a little, before I too came out and joined the Collins sisters on the second lower elevation of the hill. But all the while, I thought about the possibility of myself grabbing Rita's hand as she walked by when leaving. Her hands seemed small, pale and cold, so I wondered what her skin felt like.

I wondered if she ever smiled or if she ever told jokes or laughed at them. I wondered if she danced or could be nicer to people, how she behaved with her father and brother and if she was betrothed to anyone in particular. This, especially, intrigued me the most.

 **4.**

I'd thought of a perfect occasion to enhance my relationship with Rita when I heard Rev Bonneville one afternoon speak of some kind of small festivity in town, when the townsmen celebrated a century of dwelling in the area. The festival would last for almost a week and there would be small, reasonable preparations done for it, humble and local, but there would be a lot of dancing, eating and socializing involved.

'I daresay, Ross, that you might consider yourself our very first official tourism of the place, when the festivity begins. I am certain you have come by now to know the town well, but not enough in regards to its history.'

'I'm looking forward to it, Rev Bonneville. I take it only locals can participate.'

'Not at all! By all means, anyone visiting the town then could feel welcomed to enjoy themselves. There will be games and there will be dancing and music. You can even try our local specialty in terms of food and of folk. It is a very good opportunity for children to learn their ancestors' history and a well-deserved chance for the lonely young to find their pair. I'm told the Collins sisters simply love the Boat-ride game.'

'Boat-ride game?'

'Yes, indeed. There is a competition between couples, they need to sign in and have a ride of two on a boat from one end of the lake to the other. I'm certain you've gone to see Lake Hillside, just across the other side of the town, to the west.'

'Oh, uh… I didn't know there was any lake around.'

The Rev smiled and nodded. 'Well, Ross, I think you should do a bit of exploring these following days. It's not a very popular destination for our kind, but I am certain you will find someone who could do a bit of guiding for you.'

'And what's this boat-ride game anyway?'

'Well, I believe you must sign in on the competition with the person you have feelings for and together, you must race against other couples on the lake from one side to reach the other side. It is very popular among the young, because it is a time of confession. If you were a shy young man and had some girl you fancied, but found no appropriate moment of confession, signing yourself up along with her name was a matter of telling her how you felt. I believe I've found my wife like this. or rather, she has found me.'

He laughed discreetly, and I smiled. 'That sounds like fun, I guess. But I'm more of a dancing fellow really. Not the partying kind. But I suppose I could do with a waltz once in a while.'

'I believe there will be some dancing involve as competition. Dr. Morrison's wife, Mrs. Romina Morrison is a dance teacher in Birmingham and she would love to have a competition such as that organized during the festival. Perhaps you could suggest it to Morrison, I am certain he will pass on the message and if his wife is willing, then we might have it done before the festivity begins.'

'I wouldn't want to pry in on anything.'

'Nonsense! It would be a fresh idea coming from an outsider. Well, how presumptuous of me! It must be difficult for you, believing that everyone thinks of you an outsider, yet I am certain you will no longer be considered as such once to participate in the festivities. Are you thinking of signing in on a competition of sorts?'

'I'm, uh, not sure yet. I don't know what type of competitions there will be.'

'Well, if there is someone you fancy, perhaps the boat-ride would be more suitable.'

'Well, I don't know about that. I don't think I'd be very good at it. If anything, then I'd make her dislike me even more.'

If I hadn't realized that I would have said something silly, then I would not have noticed that the man beside me stared down at the pathway thoughtfully. 'There is someone you like, then, Ross?'

'No, not really. I was just saying.'

'It is a shame, though. You seem a very apt young man and I believe any woman would find your company agreeable.'

I opened my mouth to say something amusing, but the priest laughed and added: 'Yes, I know, I have been very intrusive upon that remark, I apologize for it. After all, it is your decision entirely to decide on pursuing someone fitting to love. But I remind you, son, love is not something we can easily control. If anything, we should thank it for coming upon us entirely, rather than upon our heed.'

Sometimes, the man said wise things such as these, other times, the sermons he held on Sunday mornings felt like a completely different approach of his on the spiritual side of this world. Overall, Rev Bonneville looked like a wise man with a lot of share on whatever necessary subject.

'I know, I know', I muttered and looked down before he stared at me, and the we heard Gail coming up from the opposite direction. She was wearing a light pink dress and her hair was settled on one shoulder. She wore little make up, but the kind of delicate jewelry she wore suggested that perhaps she had gone out with her boyfriend earlier on, and now she was returning to the motel. Bonneville watched me closely while I lifted up my gaze and smiled at Gail.

'Hey!' I greeted her joyfully and she startled. She smiled almost immediately when noticing us.

'Oh, uh, hello, Ross! Hello, Rev Bonneville! Lovely evening, isn't it?'

'Yes, indeed, my dear. Have you been downtown up to now?'

'Yes, I'm just heading back to the motel. I went to see a movie with Jackie and…'

She turned to look around and smiled shyly.

'Was it a good movie?' Rev Bonneville asked, and then he laughed. 'I must confess, these days I have been so entrusted in the cares of the church, I must have forgotten what happens in the outer world. But I'll admit I was a great fan of Coppola.'

'Well, I'm sure those days they made better movies', Gail commented politely.

'Not entirely. I've seen what people make out nowadays and I admit the portraying of human life has greatly improved, but the variety of themes directors sometimes impose is quite astonishing. And disappointing to some extent. Yet, I take it Jack was thoughtful to accompany you to something reasonable for the both of you to enjoy.'

She smiled brightly. 'Yes, I… w-well, we had a row the other day and I guess he felt like he should make it up to me. But I'll confess I sometimes feel lost for words.'

She looked at me instead. 'I think sometimes I'm not entirely good on reading my boyfriend's thoughts. Sometimes I think he's doing things to spite me.'

'From my experience, my dear, that is what young folks call love these days', Rev Bonneville joked and smiled. He made her smile childishly, and then he asked if she could join us for a walk. She looked up at the motel a few miles in front of her and then she nodded.

'Sure. I guess I could spare a few minutes.'

'Wonderful! I was just discussing about the upcoming festivity with Ross. I believe he would like to participate in one of the competitions, but he is uncertain which.'

'I didn't really say that', I smiled, looking at the man beside me smiling widely.

'Oh, and, Gail, I believe he rather fancies someone from town, but is unable to confess.'

'I didn't say that either!'

'Oh, that's very nice!' Gail exclaimed and then she stared at me smiling widely. 'Oh, that's very romantic, Ross! Make sure you tell that person how you feel if you're certain she's the one.'

'I was telling him that if he ever has difficulties, perhaps that he should sign in on the boat-ride. Although I daresay sometimes it may not be efficient.'

'Oh, no, not really, no', Gail shook her head and then for some reason, she slipped her arm against mine. I looked down at it, but she did not seem to mind the oddly intimate gesture. 'I've tried that last year, just to spite Jackie because he's been mean to me, so I went and falsely confessed to Duncan Burroughs, by adding his name as my partner. It turned out that he liked me instead, so I was afraid to break his heart.'

'I believe you've learned your lesson on lies, Gail', Rev Bonneville smiled willingly.

'Yes, I have. Definitely. Oh, Ross, I'm happy if you say you like someone from town. She must be a very lucky person, for you seem like a very nice man.'

'Thank you, Gail', I smiled. 'I expect you'll be joining with your boyfriend.'

'Well, technically, yes, but there is a custom among us - for those who already are a couple, the man must ask his female partner. So, naturally, I'm waiting for Jackie to ask me.'

'I take it, he has not asked so far, my dear?' the holy man asked

'No, not exactly. But I've got time to wait, I suppose.'

And then she startled at my arm and looked at me frowning. 'Say, Ross, if you wouldn't mind, in case Jackie doesn't ask, would you be willing to come with me to the festivity? Only formally, you see, no one would gossip about it though. That is, if you are unwilling to confess to the girl you like either.'

I smiled politely. 'I don't have anyone I fancy. And I don't mind it if I'd be your partner, Gail. For all I care, you could even sign my name alongside your son this boat-ride competition everyone's been talking about.'

Rev Bonneville laughed, while Gail's eyes rounded up in enthusiasm. 'Really? Oh, that's wonderful! Thank you, Ross!'

The matter of the festivity was greatly discussed during the following days, when I took the time to explore the town on my own and notice how townsmen began decorating the larger streets, the main road and planted posters of the festivity throughout the windows from their stores. I walked among other young people, and I could tell that the males were beginning to feel nervous, while the women giggled more often than usual. Most of them eyed young men on the streets and then whispered to their female friends of them, probably enthusiastically waiting for one of them to ask them to the join them at the festival.

The celebration was due to a fortnight, but the excitement was already in the air. Even if the weather changed for the worst, with rainy season coming, and the sea showing itself restless and loud, most of the townsmen felt anxious and talkative about the celebration. Even Rev Bonneville's sermon on this Sunday was about love and about sharing things with everyone, spreading God's hope and good will.

Gail was especially anxious about everything, biting off her nails and playing restlessly with her hair, while she stood up wasting her time at the reception. She was exceptionally daydreaming and inattentive, perhaps in expectancy that her Jack would come by and drop the question she would be waiting for.

Each time she would give me the key to my room, when I left the motel for my usual walk, she would smile to me willingly, but I could tell that she was nervous and that at the same time, the waiting time made her feel irritated and ignored. Jack still came by, as he usually did and the lad looked as expectant about the whole celebration business, but from Gail's behavior, I could tell that he probably was too shy to give way to custom.

Jennifer and Jolene spent most of their times down by the second viewpoint from the hill, painting their view on the town and exchanging opinions. They stood up late drinking by the reception bar and discussing about opening up a few exhibition in the week following the one with the festival, to celebrate its success. Undoubtedly, no one expected that this kind of arrangement would run difficult among those who'd gone through generations of preparation for such a festival.

Merryweather had some business to attend to during the following days, so I rarely saw him at the motel, but for some reason, he'd left his Benson in Gail's care, who could not care less for the dog, especially since she had her own problems to attend to. When night fell and she had to take him home, she locked up the counter by the reception and looked around through the window, perhaps waiting for Jack to appear in sight. I had had a late dinner, so now I was just coming out from the dining hall.

By this time, I had known the town for the past month and my stay would prolong for another two weeks until I decided whether it was time that I leave or search for a place to stay. I'll admit I had never even considered the perspective of finding a place around to rent or chose to return to London and face the exact same life I'd lead before the accident. My concentration here had been so much on this town, and its townsmen that I barely thought of this man I'd stolen the life from with my stupid mistake.

I met with Gail in the hallway and she was just locking the leash against Benson's collar when it saw me coming up and it stood up threatening, growling. The woman beside it pulled her hands away and kept the leash in her fist, keeping at a distance from the dog.

'Hey, Gail!'

'Oh, Ross! Uhm, hello.'

'Heading home?'

She smiled and nodded, so I offered to take her home. She looked at the dog and then at me and shook her head hesitantly. 'Oh, it's alright, I think I can handle it on my own. Jack promised he'd be coming over within half an hour, but he's already one hour late. I guess there's no point in me waiting for him.'

I pressed my lips together. 'No, I don't think so. But I can still take you home if you like. I wouldn't mind in the least.'

She looked up at the window, at the reception and then at me. 'Uhm, alright.'

When we went out through the entrance hall, we met with the night shift receptionist, a man called David, whom I rarely met with, since I did all my tasks until eleven the latest. He greeted us politely and then we headed for Gail's place down town. We passed by the lonely dark church and the cemetery stretched behind it, with the street lights lighting up the pathway along the main road.

'Thank you for seeing me home, Ross.'

'Sure.'

'I don't know why he keeps doing this, I guess he thinks that no matter the wrong he does to me, I'd still love him.'

I shrugged my shoulders. 'I'm sorry to hear that, Gail, if there's anything I can do to help.'

She shrugged her shoulders and waved me off. 'It's no one's fault. If anything, it should be mine, because I always fall in the trap so easily.'

'I guess it's probably because you love him.'

I looked at her and she returned the gaze for a while, before she realized that Benson was pulling by the leash and it felt like it wanted to be set loose. She could barely hold him up, so I offered to help out, but as soon as the dog felt the leash being passed on from one hand to another, it turned its head and growled at me threateningly.

'I guess he only likes pretty girls', I commented smiling and handed her the leash back. Gail smiled softly.

'Thank you for the compliment. But I doubt I'm anything special. There are prettier girls in town, you know.'

'Well, I only saw one up to now and this person is walking beside me at this point.'

She smiled blushing, and I was glad to make her smile.

'You are a very nice person, Ross. And would it sound awkward to add that you're very handsome as well?'

'I don't think it would sound awkward. Thanks, Gail.'

She nodded and we walked by for a while without saying anything. After this, she pulled on Benson's leash and said: 'So, how come you've come by this town anyway? Have you any relatives around?'

'No, not exactly. I guess I just felt like stepping outside of a big city and see how life feels like on the lower plains. I just picked up the farthest place possible.'

'Sounds like an adventure. Were you not happy in the city? I mean to say, I'd love it if I got the chance to move into the city. I mean… it offers a lot of possibilities, isn't it so?'

I made a small face and then Gail gestured that we should take a small detour along the pathway closest to the beachside. The beach was empty except for your occasionally couple holding hand in hand.

'I don't know about that', I said. 'I guess I didn't like it much. It's a big place and everyone's going on and off anywhere.'

She stepped over something and tripped, so her hand grabbed onto mine and I helped her stand up. 'Oh, careful!'

'Sorry. Thanks, Ross. So, you are saying you were not happy there?'

I smiled bitterly. 'I guess I wasn't. But happiness is just a state of mind. I guess you won't be long until you'll realize that as well. And I don't mean to be patronizing about that, I'm just trying to tell you that you're much younger than I am and that, no matter how boring you think your life might be here, I believe you'd end up hating city life after six months there.'

'Well, perhaps. But not everyone is like that, I guess. I mean, uhm, look at Jules. Uh, I'm guessing you've met Jules Owens? Oh, I barely recognized him that day when he came by to look for Mr. Merryweather! He's always had a rough life here, so as soon as he came of age, he's left for the city and he's been living there for a while. He's got "City life" written all over him! Smug and arrogant-like! I wouldn't want to be in his shoes. I'm just thinking of the various opportunities I could have once I started living there. Do you think I'd become as smug as Jules?'

'I'm not sure how much a smug this fellow is, but I'm guessing you wouldn't change much, Gail.'

I smiled to her and she blushed again. 'Uhm, thanks, Ross. In any case, I shouldn't be the one complaining about how low my opportunities are. I think Rita's doing a lot worse at the moment.'

'So, everyone's saying. Jennifer Collins mentioned that she's adopted.'

'Uhm, yes, well she came into town when I was five or so. Mr. Owens brought her over. If you'll ask Mom, she'll say that Rita's practically grown on her own. She was bought over by the old man.'

I pressed my lips together and frowned. 'I'm guessing she had a pair of horrible parents.'

'Oh, I'm not the one to judge, but I believe they had no means of supporting a child. I'm not very familiar on the details. Fact is, she's got no chance against Jules, once the old man dies. I mean, uhm, everything would naturally go to his son. And I've heard the father's very nasty to live with, as it is.'

'I'm sure she's handling well, if she learned to grow up on her own.'

'Well, yes. But I wouldn't want you getting a bad impression on her though. I know Rita's got a mind of her own and she appears often rude and inconsiderate.'

I made a face at her. 'Yes, she does.'

'Well, she's nothing like that actually. I was her junior at school. One year separated us and she was very smart and disciplined.'

'Well, she doesn't really impress me', I shrugged my shoulders. 'Don't take this the wrong way, I've got nothing against her, but the only good thing I'd like about her would be that she always seems to tell the truth or speak her mind out.'

Gail smiled and for some reason, she slipped her arm against mine. 'Would you consider asking her to be your partner at the festival?'

I smiled playfully: 'Now, why would I do that?'

'Well, I'm guessing you could not participate properly if you didn't have a partner. And I also think that none of the Collins sisters are worth it. They are your senior, in any case, and all they talk about is Dali's watch painting and le Greco's Santo Tome. If I told you a secret, would you be able to keep it to yourself, Ross?'

I smiled. 'I'm guessing it's about your friend, Rita.'

Gail nodded and then she looked around before she came closer to my face, and whispered in my ear: 'No one's invited her before. Most men here find her insufferable.'

'I can't imagine why', I replied ironically, and looked at Gail, but our noses clashed and she startled.

'Oh, sorry.'

'It's fine.'

We looked down for a split second and I could feel her growing red in her cheek, so I smiled amuse. 'I wasn't going to kiss you, Gail, so it's okay.'

'Oh, uh, alright.'

'Would you have wanted me to?'

She looked up at me confused and we stopped walking. Benson sensed the movement, but said nothing against it, instead it began sniffing through the air. 'Uhm… I don't… know?'

I pressed my lips together and swallowed. 'Don't get this the wrong way, Gail, you're very pretty and I've told you that before. But I think having someone in your life already would be an impediment. I wouldn't want you to get into trouble. But if it's any comfort, I would have kissed you if you had agreed.'

'I… uh…'

I smiled comfortingly, so she shook her head ad blushed. 'S-sorry, that was strange.'

'It's fine. I think I tried to be more like Rita. She's got no problem saying what's on her mind, so I assumed I wouldn't have a problem either. But I guess I made you feel awkward. I apologize for that, Gail, I didn't mean to.'

'It's fine, Ross, I understand, but I think you're right. It wouldn't be fair to let you kiss me, when I'm obviously in love with someone else.'

We nodded to each other and then she seemed to squint at her glance up front, looking at the few people passing us by on the alley along the beachside. 'Will you promise to ask Rita to be your partner, if Jack asks me to come with him to the festival?'

'Would you like me to?'

'Well, I would actually. I don't think she's ever had anyone else beside her older brother and her father, and I'm guessing they are not the most ideal persons to be with. I mean, uh, I think she's dealt with two of the worst male examples. And uh… oh, that sounded awful of me! Uhm… could I rephrase that?'

I smiled amused. 'Sure. You can try.'

She nodded and looked up. 'Uhm, what I'm saying is that someone ought to ask her to dance once in a while. And it sound be someone of her age. I-I know you're like eight years older or something, but she's a nice person and I really think that…'

'Alright. I promise.'

She smiled to me. 'Thank you, Ross. You're awfully kind to me. You aren't in love with me, are you? Jack says that he's falling every time I'm asking him to do the impossible and he agrees to it.'

I smiled. 'I'm not in love, Gail. At least, not yet.'

She looked worried at me, but I smiled even harder. We barely took notice that Benson began barking away and as soon as it caught our attention, it began pulling against the leash so hard that Gail had to shout at him panicked and hold up the leash with both hands. I tried helping her out, but there was something in the distance which agitated the animal so hard that it began pulling at the leash until the lock snapped and the leash dropped from its collar. It made a run through the dark and Gail called him, but it wouldn't listen.

'Oh dear, that's not good! That's not good at all!'

'It's fine, we'll find him. I'll help you out!'

'Oh, ear, what could possibly agitate him so?! Oh dear, on dear!'

'Gail, don't worry about it, we'll find - …'

We heard footsteps coming up from the front side, under the darkness and we could see there was a shadow forming against the light on the pavement thrown off from the street lamps. We heard Benson barking and then growl, so Gail called him, but it didn't answer. The person came up and stopped a few feet away from us. Benson made its appearance to one side, and there was a small hand holding him by the collar.

Rita's frowning face came up through the light from a street lamp finally.

Gail breathed in relieved. 'Oh, God… what a relief… It's you, Rita…'

Rita said nothing, but when Benson began barking again, she pulled it by the collar once abruptly and silenced him immediately.

'I thought Benson'd run off and I wouldn't be able to find him anymore. We were just thinking of going out to search for him. I thought he'd run off and bite someone. Thank goodness you've found him, Rita!'

'It's alright.'

'Uhm, well I guess we're okay then. I think he likes you, Rita.'

'He doesn't, but I don't like him either.'

'What are you talking about?' Gail smiled. 'he's practically spotted you through the dark and ran over. But it's alright, I think you can give him to me now…'

Yet, as soon as she made a step towards him, the dog growled so harshly, it almost made her startle and I brought up one arm towards her for protection. 'Oh, what should I do, I need to take him at my place. But he seemed to want to stay with you, Rita.'

'He can sleep over at my place. But you'll need to pick him up in the morning.'

'Really? That isn't a problem?'

The dog growled harder, fixing his eyes directly at the woman in front of him and for a split second, I imagined it jumping at Gail's neck. She too seemed to have the same impression, but when the growling intensified in volume, Rita brought down a harsh slap against the snout and the dog squealed once, looking away and bending its head down.

'I… I don't want to be trouble for you, Rita.'

But the woman in front of us grabbed the collar of the dog firmly. 'I'm expecting you tomorrow morning. Come along now, you', she ordered the dog firmly, but low.

'Uhm, th-thank you, Rita.'

But she didn't seem to expect a thank you note, instead, she disappeared in the dark and all we could hear were the sound of her footsteps and the occasional squeal coming from the dog, as I assumed its mistress now was slapping its snout each time it refused to behave.

'Uhm, I'm not sure how she does it, but I assume she's the only one to control that beast', Gail muttered out loud and then she looked at me expectantly.

'Maybe it's because she looks as fearsome as it does.' I tried a joke and Gail smiled.

'Oh, Ross!'


	3. A change of heart

**5.**

As amusing as it had been to spend time with Gail and promise her the silly things she'd ask me to promise, she seemed to consider serious my decision to ask Rita to be my partner for the festival. Since the event was coming closer at a rather speedy pace, so the patience of townsmen decreased considerably. Everyone was talking about the festivities and everyone considered signing in at various competitions, so in time, Gail found it hard to believe she would ever be able to make it in the list of those competing for the boat ride. Apparently, Jack was making her wait for too long and on Tuesday evening, I even caught her wiping her eyes, while she locked the reception door up and gave me a quick glance, wishing me good night, before leaving.

I asked her worriedly if she needed someone to take her home, but she was too angry to even answer that, so all she did was shake her head and leave. I decided that if this was to be so hard on her, then I might as well offer her my support. So I walked up to the exit hall and then I found her heading straight for down town.

'Gail!'

She stopped and turned around to face me, while I picked up the pace and followed her. She stared at me just before I stared back and smiled softly. 'Look, uhm, I'm guessing your boyfriend hasn't asked about this festival business.'

She pressed her lips together and frowned, but there was something about her facial features which suggested that she wanted to look angry, yet failed.

'Yes.'

'Well, then how about you come with me? You can even sign my name for that silly boat competition, just like I promised last week.'

She looked down and then sideways, as if thinking through her options, and none seemed enjoyable enough. It was as if she were thinking of the fact that she would be doing something wrong if she were to agree to the arrangement. Finally, she smiled to me, tilted her head to one side and smiled.

'Thank you, Ross, but I think I'll have to decline. I don't think it wouldn't be fair.'

'But he's obviously doing this to upset you', I frowned. She shrugged her shoulders and concentrated on the ground and on the tip of her shoes.

'I… know that. But I love him, even if he might not be loving me the same way. I just don't want him to judge me or to point his finger at me. I don't want to know I've done something wrong. And I know that, setting the game aside, if I were to accept your invitation, then that means I'd be doing a mistake. And it wouldn't be fair to you either, I'm certain of it, Ross.'

Saying this, she took a step towards me and kissed me on the cheek. I slipped one hand against her shoulder, but I didn't touch her, because I realized she may not have wanted me to. After this, she turned around, wished me "Good night" and walked out, leaving me alone in front of the motel entrance.

It was very early in the morning when I woke up and I dressed up for a stroll along the coast. The town was still asleep and so, I made way quietly along the alley by the side of the beach. it was so lonely, that the crows savaged through the shivering sand and pebbles, while the sea cried anxiously against the upcoming waves which bit angrily from the beachside.

There wasn't a soul to spot on the beach and the clouds were of a light grey, mixed in with a mushy kind of blue, a cloud of white spreading across the surface above the sea, in waiting for the cold sunlight to rise and warm up the earth for a brand new day.

As I reached the pebbled surface and walked up to the beachside, towards the seaside, I pulled up the collar from my unbuttoned sweater and even the pullover underneath, because of the chilly sea breeze and I barely noticed that perhaps I was not the only one taking an early stride along the beachside.

Indeed, there were a man and a woman perhaps half a mile away from me, their figures small, but the woman's smaller and more delicate. She was wearing a long black dress and one hand used to hold up the side of the hem, while the man beside he looked tall and dark, with his light grey pullover and his black pair of pants. He seemed to come from a rather good family, while she seemed to lack interest in wearing anything else but black.

The man seemed to speak loud, for I could hear him say something, but I couldn't understand what he said. His arms moved about and he sometimes pressed both his arms behind his back, clutched his hands or balled up his fists, but beside him, the woman looked calm and obedient.

I kept my distance against them, yet I went off in the same direction and I assumed that they would be stopping once they reached the large stone bridge, but to my surprise, the man stopped and turned around completely, as if in wanting to return to the point of their departure, wherever that was.

Now, they seemed to walk in the opposite direction and by all means, we would meet half way through. I kept walking ahead and I wondered when the man would stop speaking and he would realize that there would be an intruder to their conversation soon enough.

As they came closer, I noticed now that the woman kept her head down and that her figure looked oddly familiar, with her hair caught up on one side childishly, and her straight quiet manner, reminding me of one of those spinsters no one ever wanted to talk to. A few more steps ahead and I recognized Rita and her older step-brother, Jules.

He seemed to pause from speaking once he noticed me, and then he glanced at the sea and smiled firmly when we finally met.

'Uhm, hello!' I said smiling. 'Hey, Rita!'

She lifted her head up and frowned at me. 'Hello, Mr. Turner.'

Her brother frowned harder at her, before he turned his head towards me. 'Good morning, Mr. Turner! I guess you've heard of me, I'm Rita's older brother, Jules.'

'It's nice to meet you. I must confess you're very much spoken of, if I may say so', we shook hands smiling forcedly.

'Yes, well, I am mostly abroad, but this time, I decided to return for a visit at my family's place. So, how do you like it here, anyway? It's pretty boring if you ask me. But I shouldn't change your opinion, you've only come here for a month and the prettiness of this place wears off only for another six months.'

'Oh, I'm not sure I'll stay for that long', I smiled.

The man nodded and looked at the sea, once more, ignoring his sister completely. She seemed to stare at her dress, straighten it and brush her fingers against the side of her hem. I could see her feet were bare and the skin as white as a sheet, but she didn't seem to care.

'So, I heard you are staying at the Golden Motel.'

'Yes, I am.'

'And I suppose Merryweather's still there, making his living out of deciding whether he should be claimed rightful owner of the place or not.'

I opened my mouth to speak. 'Oh, I don't know about that. But he's still living there. And he seems to know everything about the town he's helped me settle in easier.'

'Well, he is a good fellow, except when he starts waving his hands around and dictating senselessly. But I suppose there is a price to be paid once one grows old. So, I take it you will not be staying long, then?'

'I don't think so. I haven't decided yet.'

'Well, I'd suggest you leave right after the festival ends. I suppose you've heard of our local traditions around here.'

'Yes, uh, I've heard the boat ride's the most popular.'

Arrogantly-like, Jules nodded. 'Yes, well, it's a silly game for single women who think love lasts forever and Prince Charming is just around the corner. Nevertheless, tradition states that we must participate at it in pairs.'

I nodded and smiled. 'So, I suppose you two will be coming along, then?'

'Not really, no. I take no interest in such an event. And I don't think my sister is either, isn't that so, Rita?'

He did not even wait for her answer, even if she glanced his side, and then looked away. He seemed to emanate submission against her, as if he threatened to crush her if she ever went against his will. 'No one would invite her, in any case, and it's not custom that a brother invites his own sister. Regardless whether we are blood-related or not.'

I smiled and brushed my shoe against the pebbles. 'Well, maybe no one asked her so far.'

Jules smiled. 'Well, I pity the man who does. She's a little devil sometimes, I am not sure if it's father's fault entirely. Have you got nothing against to say for yourself, my dear?'

He looked at her smiling tenderly, as a brother would and she seemed to turn her head towards him, frowning. For a second, she considered saying something, but her frown was not evil or ill-mannered. For some reason, I felt the strange effect that perhaps there was something between them, something secretive and unshakeable, as if he were to lock a chain against the collar from her neck and he would keep the chain close to him, in fear that she would leave or would be stolen away. And in that split second, the sea breeze blew off and her hairpin fell off onto the pebbles. The hair gathered up in the back so far had instantly come front and had covered half of her face, making her look secretive, and passionate.

'I would. But all you'd do is mock me.'

And then she looked briefly at me and nodded. 'Excuse me.'

She bent down to pick up her hairpin and left us for the closer spot against the water.

'And with this, I prove to you, Ross – may I call you Ross? – that no one would ask my sister even for a small dance, because she's too strange and incomprehensible. Not to mention, rude and impolite. She used to be a little devil as a child, but then again, I assume I was too.'

He rubbed his hands one against the other and smiled. 'Well, it's nothing fancy. This festival, I mean.'

I smiled in return. 'Perhaps I would.'

'You would what?'

'Ask her. I mean, not just to dance. To be partners at the festival.'

Jules began to laugh and he then looked at his sister over my shoulder. 'Be my guest. But I doubt she'd accept it, since she got so used to being ignored from this point of view. In fact, she might even get suspicious and think that you may be up to no good.'

'I thought that was what older brothers should worry about', I smiled.

'Perhaps. But I'm in no way her guardian. She has a mind of her own, even without my interference. You should see the way my father fights her. Two large beasts settled in the very same small cage, eating at each other bit by bit. But by all means, my good man, you may go and ask, you should not wait for my permission, I have no authority over this woman. In fact, I shall go about my business to the store and you may tell Rita that I wait for her there. I wish you a fine day, Turner!'

I pressed my lips together and nodded my head in his direction, before I saw him walk away and then I turn around and searched for his younger sister, as she seemed to hide out of sight from us. After I gave a long and thorough search over the surface of the vast pebbled-and-sand beach, I noticed her almost a mile away staring at her feet while she kicked off the water and held her dress up to her knees with one arm.

By this time, the weather had changed, the clouds ad taken on a different shade of purple and of blue, drawing up the trace for the sun to shine and bring forth a new day. I was walking towards her, when Rita turned her glance and noticed her brother leaving. She then stepped away from the water, shook her feet and let her dress down slowly, while she aimed to wash each foot and clean it from sand before she put on her shoes. She was almost done when I came about and she looked to walk away just as I reached her.

'Rita? Might I have a word?'

She stopped and stared at me frowning confused. 'With me?'

'Yes, with you', I smiled, and noticed that for a split second, she seemed to be looking at her brother, how he was quickly disappearing from sight. She seemed to be thinking that I might have said something to distress him enough to make him leave. 'I didn't send him away or anything. But it's a fine thing he's left us alone, all the same; what I wanted to discuss was rather private.'

She looked at me now frowning. 'Uhm, very well. What is it?'

I smiled and looked down at my shoes and then at her shoes. 'Well, I'm sure you know the festival's due this weekend. I was just telling your brother.'

'Yes, I've heard. Everyone's very excited about it, as usual.'

I looked up at her and smiled gently. 'And I take it you're not?'

She seemed to take an awful interest in her dress when she began smoothing it with her hands. I could see she had long thin fingers, the type one could see at a person having an artistic talent of some kind. Her nails were cut short and she used no decorations to it, as she did not for her face. 'Not really, no. I've gone through some as a child. They did not seem to impress me and they have not changed so far through time.'

'Did you go alone or something? When you were a child, I mean', I added taking a step towards her.

'I don't really remember. All I remember is that such festivities do not impress me.'

'So you would not be sorry if you did not participate.'

'I don't think I would.'

I pressed my lips together and nodded while she stopped fixing her dress. 'So, what is it you need to speak to me, Mr. Turner?'

'Maybe I will tell you if you stopped calling me like that. It sounds awfully formal', I joked a little, but she refused to smile the least.

'If this is the condition for wanting to know what this business of yours with me is, then I'd rather turn around and head for the store. I think my brother is already waiting for me.'

'You seem very stubborn about everything. Is there any reason why you'd call me by my family name?'

'Have you stopped me from following my brother to ask me why I'd call you by your family name, instead of your first?'

I breathed in and smiled. 'No, not really.'

'Then what is it?'

I took a step towards her and now we were inches apart. She was not terribly tall, but for some reason, the blackness of the dress, the cold light from the sky and the sea breeze fitted her finely. Rita looked different now and I didn't exactly know why. But her clipped hair to one side was definitely not a plus for her. I realized that, if I were to ignore the hairpin, at a closer look, this woman appeared handsome enough. She had the kind of sparkle in her green eyes which showed that she would be young no matter her real age and that in time she'd grow more beautiful than before. But the frown didn't suit her all that much and I wanted to see how she smiled.

'Well, about this upcoming festival.'

'What about it?'

'I want you to come with me.'

There was a long pause before I could see the sudden change in her facial features. She'd frown hard before and there would be no time for words spoken. Instead, Rita lifted her eyebrows confused and then she looked away. Her reaction was genuine and when she finally came back to look at me, she was frowning not as intensely as before, but with more determination and incomprehension.

'Is this what people from London think it's fun?'

'No, not really.'

'Are you mocking me, sir?'

'No, I'm not. And you're too formal, Rita, for the last time, you can call me Ross.'

I smiled to her encouragingly, but she didn't seem to care about that. In fact, she took a few steps back and muttered: 'You ought to be ashamed of yourself.'

'Excuse me?'

'You heard me!'

'What did I say wrong?' I asked confused, now while I watched her gradually walk away from me. 'Rita? What did I say wrong?'

'You're mocking me and that's shameful!'

'I'm not… - ! I'm not mocking you!' I began following her. 'I'm being serious.'

'Oh, please! I see you take fun in behaving like that ungrateful old man who's enjoyed bossing me around since the day I came of age. And I've put up with him because he's my father's friend, but you are a different sort and I won't put up with your silly game.'

'Rita, I am not mocking you.'

I stopped at stared at her gravely, while she stopped in return and she stared at me. There was hesitance in her eyes, but I could tell that she was hard to convince. 'I…' she looked around confused. 'Well, I don't want to!'

I frowned at her childishly. 'Somehow, I believe that is not true.'

'And perhaps it is. Good day to you, Mr. Turner!'

 **6**.

On the following day, I overslept and missed out breakfast in the morning. In the afternoon, as I came out and went across the entrance hall, I could see Gail was by the other side of the counter and that she was jotting something down on the register. I came by to say "Hello" and when I saw her, she turned her head and smiled to me widely. For some reason, now she appeared very joyful, with her cheeks pinkish and her hair fixed up prettily.

'Oh, hello, Ross! You missed breakfast time. Would you like me to fix something for you?'

'Hey, uhm, no, I don't need you to, it's fine. I was going out anyway, maybe I'll stop by a pub or something and have a sandwich. So, how have you been?'

She smiled continuously, and I realized just then that perhaps something had gone better for her. When I had come from my room, imagining that nothing of what I'd spoke about with Rita had been settled, then I felt that I should at least offer my support to Gail. If anything, I preferred her company to any other female company from town, since she was young, considerate and decent at most. But now, her sudden feel of joy gave me the impression that perhaps the issue she'd had with her boyfriend had been finally resolved.

'Oh, Ross, I've got the finest news ever! And I am no happy, I felt like I should share it with anyone, but I didn't think any of the Collins sisters would understand. And to be honest, you are one of the persons closest to me.'

I smiled gladly. 'Thanks, Gail, I appreciate you telling me this. I suppose it's got to do with Jack, your boyfriend.'

She smiled guiltily. 'Is it that obvious?'

'Well, I assumed he's asked you to join him for the festival.'

She smiled and nodded, setting aside the register and closing it discreetly. After this, she sat on her chair in front of me and asked about the sandwich once more. Again, I refused her politely, and then she asked me if I'd managed to invite her friend to the festival.

'Oh, yes, I did, but I'm afraid that didn't go all that well. She thought I was making fun of her.'

'Oh, that's a shame! But I knew she'd be bound to think things like that. I hope you didn't feel too offended, Ross…'

'No, not really. If anything, I assumed I would be making you a favour, that is, in case your Jack didn't get the chance to invite you.'

I smiled childishly, but Gail pressed her lips together and thought through my words. 'You would have been ready to be the one to invite me to this festival?'

'Yes, I would have.'

She smiled guiltily, as if she assumed she would have hurt me, had she accepted such an invitation. 'that's very sweet of you, Ross, I never actually imagined there would be someone as nice as you before.'

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders innocently. 'Well, what can I say. I like you, Gail, you're a very beautiful woman and I get along with you very well. I think I'll always be there to help you in whatever it is you need help with. As long a si stay around town, that is.'

'Thank you, Ross.'

And then she lifted her hand up and brushed it across my cheek gently. 'You really are a good friend.'

I smiled and nodded. After this, she frowned all the same and made a small funny face. 'Oh, that silly Rita! She should have known what was good for her right in front of her eyes! But I'd really want you to give her a chance, Ross, I know she would be a nice partner for the festival. She might fail at knowing how to behave in front of a man, other than her brother and her father, but I assure you, she's a very nice person, once you get to know her. It would really mean a lot for me if you'd try and take care that she has some fun with this upcoming festival. In fact, I could go right now to the store and have a word with her.'

'No, it's fine, Gail, I'll manage.'

And then I nodded in her direction and I said my farewell to her, for I wanted to go out into town and buy some stationary, before returning into my motel room. I promised her I'd grab something to eat down town and as a result, I managed to slip into a nearby pub, have a sandwich or two, a beer and a piece of my own mind, while I listened to some old folk music. After this, I returned to my motel room, started writing something down and then I dinner by myself, and a walk along the coast line, by the beachside, before heading back to bed.

On the following day I shared breakfast and coffee with Jennifer Collins and then she told me she would be heading down town to head for the hills and do some more sketching. If I wanted to join her, I was more than welcomed, and so I followed her and kept her company. She managed to draw me a couple of times and while I felt a little awkward about it, Jennifer did not sign her masterpiece, but gave it to me instead, telling me that I should keep it as a memory.

She smiled to me strangely, before I decided to head back to the motel on my own. By this time, it was close to dawn and I kept a steady pace along the beachside, staring occasionally at the disturbed sea, until I reached the smaller cliffs and took a path at a more elevated level against the sea.

I looked at the lighthouse a few miles away, perhaps forty-five minutes' walk away and I could tell that there were people moving about, the place looking more of a tourist attraction by the day. This was undoubtedly due to the upcoming festival, and people here took no hesitation in preparing every corner of town for this matter. I saw others walking up the pathway leading towards the lighthouse, so I decided to do the very same.

I passed by people, couples, families talking about and looking forward to the festival. I could see several wooden tables settled along the line of the fence surrounding the lighthouse from the town side. There were people gathered about, bolting the tables onto the ground, so as to prevent them from inclining when the sea breeze blew harder. The weather looked like it would change for the worst through the night, but the table surfaces were enclosed in large plastic covers and everyone seemed to have considered every possibility to prevent the arrangements from wasting all, once nature settled in harshly, just before the festival.

There were few people I knew, but everyone seemed to realize that I was a newcomer, yet there have been so many new faces coming from out of town these days that I felt like merging in with the crowd perfectly. Most of the locals had called on their relatives for visits and in order to enjoy the upcoming festival. There were children running around and couples kissing by the side of the cliff, as others began visiting the once-deserted lighthouse.

I took a seat on a bench facing the seaside, settled there and pinned down onto the ground as a special occasion, as were the tables along the fence. Perhaps they had been settled there for one of the competitions from the festival would take place there.

Most benches had been taken, but this one was situated to a farther point from the cliff, and so, perhaps most of the people in the area considered it too outlandish for their taste. I sat down and wasted my better time of the time staring at the sea, thinking of meaningless things in my life, thinking of nothingness, until I assumed my past had been completely erased, and that I had no guilt or shame to share with anyone and with anything. I considered overthinking my sins too much and comparing myself to others who had wrong-done much worse than I.

The sun was hiding incessantly against the clouds which now turned a darker shade of grey and soon enough, without my knowledge, I noticed that the people surrounded me decreased in numbers, most of them perhaps believing that the weather would turn for the worst and so, they headed for their homes. Only a few of us remained, and so I enjoyed a few moments of quietness.

Soon enough, I could see from the corner of my eyes that there was a couple of women stopping by the very side of the cliff and staring at the vast sea space, as one of them spoke in a low tone of voice. I turned my head slowly, so as to pretend that I would not be staring intently at them, and then I frowned, as I recognized one of them as being Rita Owens, while the other was unfamiliar to me and I had never seen her before.

As usual, Rita seemed to be a fine listener, while the other kept gibbering about and none of them turned around to face me. The other one's ae seemed to be Jane and she was going on and on about the festival and about how she'd managed to seduce one of the men who had invited her to last year's festival. Rita did not seem all too engaged in listening to the conversation, but rather preferred being on her own, so I assumed for once that she would be as much a loner as I was.

This female friend of hers perhaps had met her on the way and had agreed to follow her around with her incessant talking, while the other would be too worn out to refuse the company.

What I remarked about Rita was that for once, since I've met her, she had decided that today would be one in which she would wear something similar to a dress, a black pair of large robe-like pants and a tucked-in light grey shirt, with her usual hairpin pulled one side from her hair away from her face. Her frown was there, and her composed manner, but she seemed to decide on completely ignoring her female company without appearing rude about it, which made me think that perhaps she was either revising her attitude towards others or rather she simply did not care for the follower.

When her female company complained about the darkened weather and asked that they returned, Rita frowned and made no comment upon the remark. She then turned around and noticed me looking at both of them, while her friend left off ahead, convinced that she would be followed.

I had no particular dislike of Rita, so there was no reason for me to behave upset about my being refused. After all, the woman was still young and she may have had her reasons for believing that I would be mocking her, if Gail's words were true and Rita had never had much contact with another man other than her brother or her father. I knew nothing of her childhood or of her relationship with her biological parents whom – apparently – had reason to sell her when she was a child. This mere fact told a thousand words to those who wished to listen or to gossip.

If anything, I was in no position to judge Rita Owens. If anything, I too had wrong-done someone who was now bound by the wheelchair and forced to change the course of his life forever.

So I smiled to her and lifted one hand up for salutation. She hesitated, frowning and it made her turn around to face her friend walking downhill, towards town, speaking to herself, as if she assumed Rita would be beside her. I figured she thought of which version would be worse: to spend yet a few more minutes with the most talkative person in town I've ever heard or with a male she had upped and refused bluntly the previous day when she had been asked to participate together the festival. Naturally, she figured I held no grudge, for I saluted her friendly, so she walked up shyly.

'Uhm, may I have a seat?'

'Hello, Rita. Sure, sit down.'

She sat on the other side of the bench, facing the sea and we stood up quiet for a few minutes. I knew she would not be able to start a conversation for she did not seem like that kind of person, and when I looked at her, I could see she was deeply in thought with the seaside scenery unfolding I front of her. The dark clouds spread a kind of black omen against the tumultuous waves, and there were seagulls flying by fighting the stronger sea winds above our heads.

I breathed in and looked at the threatening clouds of thunderstorm. I then stood up and said: 'I, uh, I think we should head back into town. Rain's coming up soon.'

And saying this, I noticed a thunder rolling about through the darkened clouds and then a small distant lightning striking across the distant sky.

'Oh, wow! I guess we won't be reaching town by the time the storm begins.'

It was a matter of minutes before the rain began falling. After this, I turned around to face the pathway down to town, and the tables settled along the fence. I came by the closest of them and I noticed the plastic covers had been pinned down against the surface of the wooden table not by nails, but my clips, so I pulled away the clips and picked up the plastic carpet. Finally, I threw it over my head and my back, and I walked up to Rite who was still standing there, now standing up and staring at the upcoming storm and the lightning rolling about.

'Are you coming?' I said and then I quickly slipped the plastic cover above her head. She stared at me confused, before I could notice that she no longer frowned as much.

'Alright. We could go inside the lighthouse. It shouldn't be closed at this time.'

I held up the plastic cover for the both of us, while she led us towards the lighthouse and then when we reached the entrance door, she pushed it with both hands as hard as possible. 'Here, let me try!'

'I can do it.'

Finally, she managed to push the door aside and then we slipped inside, just before the weather turned for the worst. Rita shut the door behind us and I was surprised to see that the place was lit up just enough by the sole window facing the seaside scenery. There was a dim light also coming from a small lamp post by the side of the window and there were a few chairs and a table in the middle of the room.

A man stood on one of the chairs with a pair of large glasses on his nose, reading from a book. He was round and old-aged, dressed up in a funny-looking uniform and a sailor's cap.

'Hey, you!... Oh, hello there, Rita! Come to shelter from the storm, have ye?'

'Yes, uhm, sorry for the intrusion, Donovan. May we stay here until the rain's settled in?'

'O' course, ma' dear! And who's yer friend over there? Well hello there, m' name's Donovan Trump.'

'Nice to meet you, I'm Ross Turner.'

We shook hands and smiled at one another and then the man rubbed his hands against his dirty trousers and looked around. 'Uh, I'm sorry, I'd offer ye a cup of coffee or something, but I'm out of supplies and the folks organizing this here festival, they seemed to have taken me kindness fer granted, if ye know what I mean.'

'It's alright, I don't think we'll be long.'

'You'll be for as long as you need to, Mr. Turner.'

'It's alright to call me Ross.'

I barely noticed that, for some reason, Rita had gone off somewhere unknown to me, but there were a few stairs to the farthest corner of the chamber which I believed led to an upper room and I also believed Rita to be bold enough to head over there for that matter. As expected, she was a kind of solitary person I usually am whenever I feel like I should not be bothered by anyone. But I could not just simply ask the man whether I could climb up the stairs and follow her, for she knew this man better than I, and perhaps he had permitted her a lot more than he would have permitted me. So I stayed with him for a while and we chatted a little to get to know each other, until he noticed how I'd eye the stairs wondering about Rita, and then he seemed to feel compelled assuring me that he would not mind the least if I followed my female friend to the upper floor. I told him that I didn't wish to intrude, but he felt certain that there would be no intrusion, so I was now climbing up the stairs and met with an almost empty room, except for a small rounded metal-made table and two chairs, facing a large French-like window showing off the tempestuous sea scenery.

Rita was sitting on one of the two chairs and she was half stretched across the surface of the table, with her elbow pressing against the surface, while she held her head against her hand.

I pressed against the squeaking floor and headed for the table. 'Could I take a seat?'

She took her hand off from the table and nodded, so I sat on the other side, staring at the seaside. But I glanced at her once, just to examine how she'd see this entire nature rage. There was nothing except admiration in her eyes, and she seemed very concentrated on whatever she imagined about this simple storm, rushing across the sea. But I wondered what she thought of at that point. And I wondered what kind of person she was all the same. I wondered if she hated her real parents for selling her to complete strangers or whether she respected her brother or her father for protecting her. I wondered if indeed she felt happy in this secluded small place, where I could foresee no future for myself. I wondered if she felt lesser of herself than she deemed others against her.

When she felt as if she were being watched, she slowly turned her head towards me, and I pretended looking at the storm through the window. She made a small face, pressing her lips together.

'So I see you like this kind of weather?' I asked without having a proper reason to.

'Not particularly. But I prefer it to a sunny day.'

'And I take it you visit the lighthouse regularly. The lighthouse keeper seems to know you well…'

'I used to take walks along the beach side with Benson. And I often ended up here. It's not the kind of dog one would roam about freely in town with.'

I nodded smiling. 'Yes, indeed, it isn't. But you haven't been walking it for a while now. Or so I noticed, I mean.'

'I'm not anymore.'

I looked at her frowning, and when she finally felt like being stared at, she returned my gaze frowning. 'What is it?'

'Nothing, I was just wondering why you'd stop. Walking Benson, I mean. Is it because Merryweather told you it wasn't necessary anymore?'

She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. 'I don't know. I didn't like the dog, so I am pleased I am not nursing it anymore.'

'Well, if you asked me, it made you look very fearsome', I smiled jokingly, and then I relaxed on my seat, staring at the rainy scenery. 'And as much as you'd probably like to think it, you are not fearsome at all. If anything, I think you are very fragile-like.'

I looked at her smiling. 'No offense, Rita.'

But she did not smile and so I thought that perhaps I'd taken the joke the wrong angle. She might have gotten upset about it, for her reaction was to stand still and be quiet about everything, frowning at the rain and at the wild waves crashing against the cliffs and the beachside. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders indifferently. 'Whatever.'

I smiled again. 'If you'd be anything like Gail, I think this would have been the part where you'd jump up and take offense, commenting something against what I just said.'

'I'm not Gail.'

'Clearly you aren't, Rita, I was just saying. But I heard her say you two went to school at about the same time. That would make you friends, would it not? At least, she seems to think so.'

She spotted something over the surface of the table, so she took up her hands and rushed it away. After this, she left her hand to rest there for a while. 'Perhaps.'

'Have you two been in the same class?'

'No. I was her senior.'

'Was she the type to run around and follow you everywhere?' I smiled amused.

'Why don't you ask her, instead of me?'

I smiled untouched by her cold comment, and I looked away. 'Well, because you are here and she is not. And maybe I'd like to know more about the both of you.'

'Perhaps it's more of her you want to know', she suddenly replied harshly, while taking off her hand from over the surface of the table. She rubbed them one against the other, as she looked away and then concentrated on the rainy scenery in front of her, as if the subject of having a man speaking to her of another woman was making her feel terribly uncomfortable.

'Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel awkward, Rita. I just… Look, about yesterday, she's asked me if I could invite you to the festival, and -…'

'I know she did.'

I stopped speaking and I stared at her surprised. 'Oh, you do?'

She nodded without looking at me. 'Yes. She's done this before. Asking a male friend of hers if he could possibly do her a favour.'

I frowned at her, staring attentively, yet I could not read any other emotion in her eyes, except calm and serenity. She seemed to have been through this some time ago. 'I, uh, see. Is that why you believed I would mock you?'

'It doesn't matter. You can ask anyone you like now. As far as I know, she's already going with her Jack.'

'And what about you? Wouldn't you like to go?'

She stared at me frowning. 'I said I'm not that much into this kind of foolish event.'

We stopped staring at each other after that. For a while, we stared at the seaside, at the raging storm, the thunders and the lightning crashing against the sky, the waves eating from the pebbled beach and the cliffs.

I imagined myself alone on the beach alongside the very same man I'd paralyzed, both of us staring at the sea loosened by the guilt and the blame. And then I saw myself enjoying myself one last time at the festival alongside someone who mattered, even if someone I had perhaps no feelings towards. But the woman beside me felt like it sent her presence against my own with great care. I could smell her figure to my side and I felt like she had grown more than her female counterpart, Gail, simply because she'd gone through a harder time than her younger friend. Rita too was lonely and secretive, without matching her sorrow against others or finding fault in anyone. She gave me the feeling that if anyone would be there to listen to my mourning, then she would. She gave me the sudden feeling that she could be a good friend, if nothing else.

'Would it matter now if I said that wouldn't be mocking?'

I looked at her intently and she once more wiped the surface of the table and then pressed her fingers against the metal plate. 'About what?'

'About you coming with me to the festival.'

She stared at me frowning. 'I wouldn't believe you.'

'Well, I'd really want you to come with me.'

She suddenly began to feel angry, so she waved me off. 'Oh, cease this nonsense, Mr. Turner, I'm not going to fall into this silly joke.'

'It's Ross, and I'm serious. It's not a joke, Rita.'

Finally, she frowned at me, but kept quiet, so I took the chance to stare at her and smile confused. 'Unless of course, uhm, someone else already asked.'

She took a few seconds to answer, looking away. 'No one would.'

I smiled. 'Well, it's a fine idea then! I won't need to worry that you would refuse me in favour for another.'

'I haven't answered yet, you know.'

'You haven't, yes, but I know you would accept.'

She took her hand from the surface of the table and straightened her dress. 'You seem to be very certain of yourself, Mr. Turner.'

'Well, allow me to explain: the first time I've asked, I've done it entirely on Gail's behalf. But this second time, I've done it because I want to.'

'You seem to be unaware of the fact that there are plenty of pretty girls in town besides Gail who could be your partner. Why choose someone who isn't willing to?'

'Because I've asked you, Rita.'

I expected her to go on and on about questioning my decision, yet these last few words seemed to settle her down. If anything, she looked at me frowning, her frown mild and thoughtful, so she stared at the rain as if already adjusted to the facts.

'So, I take it you will come with me.'

'I… will', her words seemed to fade away shyly and I smiled, because she now looked like a child playing a game of innocence.

'And you won't back out on me, will you?'

Before she answered, she looked out at the window intently, and then she frowned hard, as if she'd spotted someone. She stood up from her chair and looked at whatever she saw more closely.

'What's the matter?' I asked worriedly, standing up.

'It's… Jules is coming to the lighthouse.'

'That so?'

But when I managed to look out at the window, she came down onto the stairs and was gone for a few minutes before she carried upstairs. I came by the stairs in the small chamber below, as I passed her by on the stairs. 'Everything alright?'

'Would you please not tell my brother that I am here, Donovan?'

'Alright, Rita, if that's what you wish. Best if you took the upper room, in case he's coming upstairs.'

And then she hurried up on the stairs, while I was left halfway through trying to make sense of everything. By the time I did however, the entrance door opened up heavily and Jules Owens made his appearance against the entrance frame half wet and holding up a folded umbrella in his hand.

He startled almost as soon as we spotted each other in the same room. 'Oh, uh, good day to you! Hello, Donovan!'

'Hello there, Jules, how's it goin'? Came here from the rain, just like Ross?'

'Ahem, something like it. Listen, uhm, have any of you seen my sister? She's been gone long enough from the store. I could use an extra hand there right now.'

'Sorry, lad, haven't seen Rita all day. Maybe she's gone off with some of her friends.'

'She has none. She's got too much work to do at the store to be wasting time with others.'

I was ready to open up my mouth, for some reason, on her defense, but the old man beside me frowned and opened his instead. 'Now, that sounds like a harsh thing to say, she's your sister and she's pretty young to be locked up in a small store like that. No complainin' about your service, lad, I know your father's worked up hard for it, but I think Rita's better off spending some time on her own as well.'

'Will all do respect, Donovan, that isn't any business of yours, how I raise my sister.'

'But she ain't yours blood-related, is she?'

'You dare gossip about this, old man?'

'Ain't nothing to gossip about, everybody knows – even this lad here knows – that she's no bloodline of yours. And if she were any closer friend of mine and she'd be here, then I would surely not give you the chance to send her back to the store. She's almost my grandson's age and he's the one to ride off with his friends and live his youth. You seem to enjoy locking her up day after day in that store and I ain't sayin' no one shouldn't take care of it, but I reckon you could do with hiring someone in her place to help out, while you let her spend her youth finely.'

'I told you we're not discussing this here!'

And then he pushed away the door from the entrance and left without saying anything in return. The old man stared at me surprised and pressed his lips together. 'Well, I reckon you could let Rita know that her monster brother's gone.'

I pressed my lips together and nodded, so I turned around and headed for the stairs up. I found Rita by the metal-made table staring at the scenery from the window, looking out for the brother's departure.

'He's gone, hasn't he?'

'Yeah, uh, Mr. Donovan sent him off.'

She seemed to breathe in childishly and drop on the chair. Before I could say anything, I heard the old man climbing up the stairs and he stopped just before he entered the room. 'I think I said too much this time, m' dear. You'll be expecting harsh words at home. I'm sorry, lassie.'

'It's alright, Donovan, he's made a habit of lecturing every evening.'

The old man nodded, turned around and then he left me alone with her. I watched her frowning, how she stood with her short cut hair and her loosened shoulders facing me with her back, staring at the rainy weather and the sea.

'So, I assume he is not your model older brother.'

She gave me a frowning glance and stood quiet, with both her hand sin her lap. 'You should not be too quick to judge, Mr. Turner.'

'If you are going with me to the festival, Rita, I'd prefer it if you called me by my first name.'

And then I smiled, just before she prepared to comment in return and I bent down beside her. Seeing me so close to her, she startled and tilted one side, visibly surprised. 'Oh!'

'By the way, I should add that you have a very fitting name. Rita!'

And then I looked at her hairclip. 'And you shouldn't keep your hair like that. It makes you look like a silly school girl. I vouch that you would look your best if you were to take it off.'

'Oh, how foolish, I've had it since I was fourteen, and I'm not taking it off now because you think it's unsuitable for me!'

'Well, you're not fourteen anymore, are you?'

I walked up to the other side of the table, while she tried to speak, but shut her lips instead, and then with one hand she removed her hairpin, setting it on the surface of the table. Now, I could not see her face because her hair fell to one side, but I assumed she looked more of her age than previously.

'So, how does this partnership work anyway? At the festival, I mean. Must I come by your place and pick you up or something?'

'No. I will come by the motel.'

'Alright. And would you want us to participate at the boat ride? Gail said that we should, it's one of the best games from the festival.'

'If you prefer. But you must ride it with the person you like. It does not necessarily need to be with the person you are a partner with.'

'I see.'

I looked at her. 'Is there someone you like, Rita?'

'That is a terribly personal question, Mr… - !'

'Ah, please.'

'… R-Ross.'

I smiled and nodded. 'That's more like it. And contrary to what people perhaps gossip about me around here, there isn't anyone I like for me. If you were to like participating in the ride, then I would be glad to come with you. It would not be like a confession. But I wouldn't mind all the same.'

'Perhaps. But people here are mean and they will say things. They might think that we are in … love.'

She looked away when she spoke and I found her reaction childish, but adorable. 'Alright then, Rita, we won't go on any boat ride.'

We stared at the rain for another while, before she seemed to straighten in her chair, while I felt more comfortable around her. Rita had a kind of witty way of behavior, of looking at someone, as if she expected an elevated kind of discussion and not some silly gibberish about senseless love and Prince Charming.

'Ross?'

I turned my head quickly. It was the first time she'd called me by my name, and Rita's voice sounded more firmly when she did so, as if she was gradually growing on me and knew it. I instantly felt as if I could entrust her with myself, for she would be willing to listen. It made me think that perhaps it had taken time to know her, but Rita was a good friend to have around and I was beginning to like her.

'Yes?'

Her hands fidgeted against her lap nervously. 'During the festival, we… uhm, we would need to, uhm, hold hands and uh… if you have feelings for Gail, then I believe it is not right for you to be asking me to go with you.'

'I'll admit I like Gail. But I respect her relationship with her boyfriend', I smiled. 'It's fine, Rita, it's you I want to go with at the festival. I won't mind us holding hands.'

'I'm a very bad dancer.'

'It's fine, I'm not into dancing that much.'

I looked at her from the other side of the table and then Rita looked back at me. For a second time, I saw no frowning in her eyes and she was trying to tell things she perhaps never told anyone before. I believed this to be a sign that she gradually took the smaller step of trusting in me. 'It's fine, Rita.'

And then I tested her will and settled my arm over the table, as close as possible to the middle of the surface. I stared at my hands, as my fingers waited expectantly that she bring forth her hand beside mine. But Rita stared at the rainy scenery, without saying anything and for a few seconds, I felt the impulse of standing up and touching her shoulder. 'Thanks for coming with me.'

She pressed her lips, looked into my direction and nodded comprehensively.


	4. A girl with red hair

**7.**

It rained incessantly for the following hour. I sat by the small table facing the rainy scenery, quietly keeping myself beside the woman I had known so little of at the begging of my journey here, and yet I felt that there would not be a better company.

We had done speaking to one another, but Rita had begun at some point to hum a song of her own, which I also heard of. I assumed she enjoyed it because she did not miss a word, even if her voice was low and her tone of voice close to boyish.

It was a song I often heard on the radio, perhaps a few years back and I did not expect her to know it all that well. Yet I knew so little of Rita, I could hardly assume that she would enjoy no music at all.

'You like to sing?'

She looked at me from across her shoulder and then she frowned. 'Not necessarily. It was the rain which made me think of the song.'

I nodded and the I stared at the window. I thought of the upcoming festival and whether the weather would become better within the following couple of days.

'I would like to ask, however: will your brother agree to this?'

I stared at her. 'I'll admit I've been a little impulsive and I did not even consider if your brother would mind my asking you to the festival. I am aware you're old enough to decide on your own, but I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble after this.'

'My brother is not one of the worst men on this planet. He is at times selfish and arrogant, and he has an almost predictable opinion of women. That they all belong to lower positions than men. Naturally, he'll think the same of me. But everyone seems to be under the impression that I am ill or mistreated.'

She rubbed her hands together and then pressed one on the surface of the table. 'I can take care of myself.'

She gave the slight impression that perhaps I had been very judgmental of her. I looked away rather ashamed for assuming such things, alongside all those who assumed she would be a delicate, fragile thing to break easily at the first bite from her older brother. if anything, it gave away the impression that Rita was some sort of weakling in need for compassion or protection. But her straight posture while sitting down and her carelessness against the windy harsh weather unfolding before her eyes across the other side of the window proved that she was nothing like that.

I took a deep breath and looked at my hands and my fingers resting on my lap. 'I've never told anyone about this. But I've killed a man.'

I breathed in and remembered the story I've told the policemen a long time ago. Id victimized myself so much into believing that I would be proven wrong because in fact, I had no intention of running him over. But the sole truth had been, as it was now, that I had destroyed his life.

'I was drunk. And I took my car and drove off through the countryside. I didn't see him, so I ran him over. And now he's confined to a wheelchair, living alone with his older sister, barely making it on their own.'

I looked up at her and noticed that beside me, Rita was frowning, staring at me, as if she were trying to read through my eyes. 'I'm sorry, I… you'll probably think the worst of me now. But I think I felt the need to confess to someone. I've never done this before. And you looked like the best person to tell to.'

'Is this man still alive?'

'Yes, he is.'

'Then you haven't killed anyone, have you?'

I breathed in and looked away: 'Oh, I think I have, Rita. He probably would have done much better in life than I.'

'You don't know that, do you?' she eyed me darkly, so I stared back at her. 'You couldn't know, could you? Because you say you ran over him with your car. But did you know what he was like before that?'

I smiled bitterly. 'No, I didn't, Rita, it's not all that simple.'

'Yes, it is. You've done something terribly wrong, but not completely. Just apologize and move on. We've all done mistakes.'

'I've almost killed a man.'

'But you haven't.'

'Yes, I have!' I frowned at her turning around on my chair. 'I have, Rita! I have! He will no longer be able to move, to travel, to go abroad. To do a lot of things like visit his friends, or hang out with his family. He will never be able to drive a car or play soccer. He will not be able to have children!'

'Then why is it that you've told me? Is it so that I feel sorry for you? Give you advice on how to carry on from this point? Or perhaps just listen? And what good will listening do?'

'Maybe I was wrong to confess to you in this intimate way', I frowned upset and moved away.

'Maybe you were.'

We took a long pause, before I brushed my hand against my hair and looked away thoughtfully. 'I'm sorry, Rita. I did not mean to shout or raise my voice at you. And I certainly did not mean to make you angry.'

She spoke nothing after this, but instead she kept on staring at the rain and for the following twenty minutes, we said nothing to each other. I felt strangely attached to her minute after minute, especially now since I'd confessed to her my greatest secret, and it oddly felt strange to ask her to keep quiet about it.

Soon, the rain settled quietly and it all became a mushy kind of weather, the breeze not blowing so hard, while the sea waves calming down gradually.

'Rita? Would you tell me what your opinion on love is? You see, I think I've never loved anyone but myself, and it's strange that whenever I see your friend, Gail, my mind goes often blank and I would like to think that I'm in love. Have you ever been in love?'

She frowned at me. 'You seem to think I might be up to listen to any kind of confession you would make.'

I smiled gently. 'And you would not?'

'I won't stand here listening to you confess your love for Gail Porter! It would make me feel awkward and wonder why you wouldn't ask her to come with you to the festival, instead of me. Have you no mind at all, young man?'

'Young man…'

My hand slipped from my lap and onto the table beside hers. She did not seem to notice. But soon enough, the old man's voice from downstairs was heard calling her name and she replied to the call almost immediately. I watched her hand removed itself quickly from beside mine and noticed it fly off alongside its mistress' body while she walked out from the room without excusing herself. It was a flash of a few seconds, but it had been strong and meaningful. It would have been foolish of me to believe that I was in love with Gail Porter. She had only given me clear instructions as to how I should consider myself her closest friend, yet nothing more.

She would have only one certain affection pointed out onto her boyfriend, whom so constantly disappointed her, while I could have taken so much better care of her. But she foolishly believed that her boyfriend would be worth her love and respect. And I was in denial. There was no such thing as the feeling of love I felt for her and I could tell from a mile that she would never give up on her beloved Jack in order to concentrate her love on me.

I was almost certain I would have nothing to do with love in general, as it were. My point of interest had not been love when I had come into this town. It was to find a peace of mind and calm my thoughts down. And when I heard Rita's footsteps coming up the stairs once more, I imagined that perhaps the first woman who stopped in front of my eyes at this point would be the one I concentrated the most, once I decided on love-finding.

'The rain has stopped. I think it's best if we head home while it stopped.'

I stood up from my seat and turned around to face Rita. Her hand was resting on the door knob, while her other was behind her back. She looked childish, young and refreshing, but she had a kind of secrecy to herself, as if she were a box of jewels locked and tucked away, safely hidden and in waiting for the perfect explorer to find her and assumed her for his own.

'What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?'

I came by frowning and she seemed to look at me awkwardly. When I finally found myself inches from her, I smiled playfully. 'No reason.'

And then I frowned at her childishly and smiled from the corner of my mouth. 'I wonder… would you tell me if you were in love with anyone? I would not want to spoil the man's dreams, if I were to bring you with me to the festival.'

She seemed to have missed out the real point of the game, for she made a face at me and turned around to leave. 'You are perfectly safe, Ross. No one would ever want me.'

And then, as she came down the stairs, convinced that I would follow, I looked down at her and imagined her listening quietly to me for the rest of her life. So, I whispered to myself smiling: 'Perhaps I will.'

 **8**.

A day just before the festival, Gail missed out from her day at the motel. There were questions as to where she could have run off to, and in the meantime, someone was called in to replace her and help out with the motel business. That was how I managed to meet up indirectly with the owner, a young man in his late thirties, quite light-headed and little knowledgeable of the business itself. I assumed that perhaps the man had had a lot of cash to have nothing to do with, so he had considered – under perhaps the wise advice of some close friend - to build a property of tourism around the area. The place itself was not fascinating and it offered nothing special of it, but I assumed that it must have been very popular during the early days of its finishing.

For some reason, it didn't surprise me all that much that Gail disappeared. If anything, the incident agitated the entire town, so much that people began speaking about it out loud, without a shroud of intimacy or decency to it. It was late in the afternoon when Merryweather came up to the table where most of us still enjoyed lunch and he offered to explain that at about the same time, not only Gail had disappeared, but also her boyfriend.

At this point, all was enough for explanation, for it seemed that the both of them had made a run for it, while leaving behind Gail's worried parents and Jack's baffled friends.

During that time, at about the time when most of the English folk gathered up for afternoon tea, I went up to the hill and walked through the forest in hopes that I might find Rita's hiding place. I kept thinking that it had been the finest thing to assume that I might retrace my feelings of affection towards her, rather than towards her younger female friend. This was entirely because it seemed Gail was weak enough to be convince don doing irrational things, just like I had been a long time ago, when I was foolish enough to believe that there would be no coincidence to my wrongdoing.

I hadn't seen Rita since that long afternoon we'd spent at the lighthouse, under the heavy rain and that was perhaps a couple of days ago.

The preparations for the festival were done and completed, leaving time and space for people to get ready for the excitement before the following day when the opening ceremony would take place. This was arranged on the beachside, close to the lighthouse, right where the tables had been settled and I was told by one of the Collins sisters that the mayor would hold a few words, have some of the oldest residents from town say a few other words and then there would be dancing, jeering and music all the way, starting up with silly children's games and continuing with more adult ones later in the afternoon.

There was a kind of calming feeling about the fact that I had asked Rita to be my partner on this and that she had agreed to the arrangement. It felt strange to think that perhaps her brother would interfere in any way in between us, but this was no love-sick story, it was simply a case of inviting someone to dance and having that person's siblings keeping an eye on you, enough so you would not be allowed to do foolish things. And I wondered whether I could have done foolish things to her, considering that she had grown on me since the day I'd spent long hours in her company.

I considered then my mistakes against the man I'd left behind in London, after the accident. I considered whether I should return in order to apologize and make ado for what I had done. I imagined he would not forgive me so easily, while I would be rather kicked out from his house by those he lived with, assuming he had found some form of happiness in all his misfortune.

I rubbed my forehead with the tip from my fingers and imagined coming home to my Father and to the fact that I had not apologized to him either for supporting me during the period following the accident.

He and I had not spoken since and for some reason, the Owens' family situation had reminded me of this most often.

I heard footsteps through the path in the forest and someone stopped by the entrance. Before I could lift my head to see who it was from the inside of the small desolated construction, the person began moving away. I stood up and walked out from the place, staring at a female figure dressed in a long plain skirt, with a dark grey blouse tucked in.

'Rita? Why are you walking away?'

She turned her head around and I could see her hair was not pinned behind, as she would usually do. 'I thought you would need privacy.'

'No, I - …! Your company is fine.'

She seemed to look at me frowning incomprehensive, afterwards, she took a peek at the surroundings and ten she quickly turned around and entered the small desolated place, hiding behind the side wall from the entrance. She seemed to be hiding from something or someone, so I frowned and came closer to her, only to look outside and spot anyone who might have followed her.

'Something wrong?'

'My brother's looking for me.'

I stared at her and noticed that she was not laughing and that, if anything, she looked amusing hiding away from her step brother, as if she were a child. I take it you don't wish to be found by him.

She opened her mouth to say something, but as soon as someone stepped on a twig a few feet away, on the other side of the desolated wall, she crept behind her hiding spot, frowned at me and shook her head, telling me silently not to blow her cover away. I looked up and straightened my position, noticing Jules Owens coming up the slope, onto the pathway I'd come up an hour or so ago.

When he noticed me, he frowned hard and straightened up.

'Hey, Jules!'

'Ross, fancy seeing you around this place. See you've found out about it.'

I pretended to be a little surprised. 'Really? It's very visible, once you head up the pathway.'

'Well, I suppose so, if anyone'd know about the pathway leading to this place. But I'm sure you've noticed the pathway begins once you set yourself to the right from the main alley and push a few bushes aside. What I mean to say is that I didn't expect you to find it so easily.'

'I'm a curious person', I smiled.

He nodded frowning. 'I'm sure you are. But it's still a surprise to see you here.'

'It's public property, Jules', I smiled forcedly this time.

'No, I mean, this is Rita's favourite place. So I assume that if you knew of this place, then she must have told you about it.'

For a split second, I saw the frown in his eyes and I figured that it might have been rather harsh, given the situation, and so I managed to come up with a small game of testing the terrain, before I realized that perhaps the best way would be to handle the situation with truth and honesty. 'She did, yes. Maybe a week ago or something, I'm uncertain.'

He nodded and looked around, before he raised his eyebrows. 'Yes, I've heard you two have gotten quite close one to another.'

'It's not a bad thing entirely, is it?' I said jokingly.

'Oh, I wouldn't know, Ross, I don't know you all that well. For all I know, you are an outsider who's only gotten used to our rustic lifestyle for the past month. But you don't seem to inspire me anything, except distrust. I hope you don't take any offense, I'm just speaking to you as an older brother would for his sister.'

I nodded.

'No problem. I took none. But I think Rita's old enough to decide on her own.'

'Sure she does, but I still need to make sure it's the right person. I guess you wouldn't know what I mean though, you've no siblings of your own, do you, Ross?'

I pressed my lips together and nodded. 'Sorry, no.'

Jules nodded and breathe din. 'Well, anyway. I suppose you haven't seen her around, have you? She's come up this pathway, but then maybe she saw you in and left as quickly as possible. She's unsociable like that.'

'Maybe she was hiding away from you', I replied smiling oddly and hoped that the man would take it as a joke.

He frowned, but said nothing, except: 'Alright, uh, ahem, well, one can't be too careful these days, I suppose. She's very new to this game and I'd hate to see her end up like her friend, Gail. I suppose you've heard of her?'

'Yes, I have. I'm afraid Merryweather's given on the details as soon as they travelled through town.'

'I'm sure he did. Well, anyway.'

He looked around and then he nodded towards me, saying his goodbyes, after which he turned around and walked back down onto the pathway.

As soon as the coast was clear, Rita straightened up and looked out through the windowless gap in the wall.

'I think it's safe to assume that he's gone, Rita.'

I smile to her and she frowned in return. This time, indeed, her hair had been let loose and the collar from her shirt was unbuttoned at the base of the neck. For some reason, I found her appealing.

'Yes, he is. Uhm, thank you, Ross. For not telling on me.'

I smiled gently. 'It's alright. I suppose he is a little control-freak. And overly protective.'

She brushed the dust from her blouse and the hem from her skirt. 'He didn't like the idea that I'd accept going with you to the festival.'

I was surprised. 'Wow! When I suggested it, he seemed perfectly alright with the idea.'

'Well, he didn't think I'd accept. He's perfectly harmless though. I believe the only problem he would have against it is knowing that he would be the one sitting home with father, while his sister went out for a change.'

I took a step towards her: 'Is that what you were doing during last year's festival?'

She startled and looked up at me confused. 'Well, yes. What did you expect?'

'And no one considered asking you to come with them?'

'You're the only one.'

I took another step towards her, so when she felt that I was perhaps too close, she tried taking a step back, but she looked up confused and frowning. 'What are you - …?'

'You wouldn't change your mind, would you?'

'You are very strange today, Ross, what is wrong with you? Why do you stand so close? I can hear you perfectly, you know.'

I looked down at her and pressed my lips together. 'That's not the reason why I'm standing so close.'

She stepped aside, pulling up both her arms behind her back. 'Alright, well, whatever the reason might be, that does not make me feel comfortable. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should be off on my way.'

'Would you care to stay with me for a while?'

I caught the side of her skirt because it floated in my direction as she passed by and then she looked back frowning. 'Uhm, alright. If it pleases you. Although I must admit I'm not the ideal company to anyone.'

'Why would you say that?'

She slipped inside and I followed, staring at her, waiting for an answer. She shrugged her shoulders indifferently and explaining briefly: 'I suppose my father and brother's always said that. And I've gotten used to the idea. After all, I don't really prefer anyone's company, but myself.'

'So, you don't enjoy my company, is that it?'

Rita looked at me frowning, as I came in and sat on the stone bench in the middle of the desolated chamber. 'I don't mind your company. But I don't know why you would come all this way from London to stop at a no-man's place. If you intend to stay, there is no future for you here.'

'I don't think I intend to stay here.'

I saw her walk up slowly towards me and then she sat beside me on the bench. She pulled up her skirt and smoothened it before sitting down. 'Oh, I see.'

I smiled amused. 'Would you be sad if I left, Rita?'

She frowned and straightened up, without looking at me. 'Why is it that sometimes you give me the impression that you would be speaking to me as if I were a child? What do you hope to achieve if you asked me this? Would you like to know if I have any feelings for you, like some of the other young women around here?'

I opened my mouth to say something, but I ended up looking at her and Rita turned her head to look back at me. 'I'm not sure, Rita. Maybe I shouldn't have asked that, you're right. You're not a child. Your brother seems to think so, though. But I don't. I think you're mature enough to understand a lot of things. When I was your age, I guess I was still a child, so I now assumed you'd be the same.'

She breathed in. 'It's alright, I guess. And I do have feelings for you.'

I looked up at her surprised. 'I think you're very decent and nice, compared to so many of us around here. I thought people coming from larger cities are as smug and as arrogant as Jules. But you are an exception, I suppose. A pleasant one, that is.'

'What kind of feelings do you have for me then, Rita?'

'Well, I think you are likeable. At times.' She turned to look at me. 'When you do not give the impression that you may be running from something. Are you afraid of something, Ross?'

Her eyes stared straight at me and I felt strange to lie about how I really felt. 'I guess I am. I'm not sure. Perhaps I'm overthinking about what I've done to that man. Because I am thinking that it had been completely unintentional.'

'Then, did you come here to get away?'

I smiled softly. 'I suppose so. I just wanted to leave.' I looked at her. 'I know I'm an outsider for you all, Rita.'

'Well, it's a small place and you've barely stayed here for more than a month. It had taken me most of my childhood years to adjust and even now, I still have the impression I don't belong here.'

'It must have been hard for you.'

'It must have, but I did not know it at the time, because I was just a small girl, now that I've grown up, it's too late to look back and regret. What's done is done.'

'Could I ask you something?'

'I suppose it's got to be about my parents.'

She looked at me briefly. 'I mean my biological ones.'

I frowned hard. 'You do not hate them?'

She brushed the possible dust from her skirt. 'Not really, I… well, I wouldn't know. I suppose they had their reasons. And when I turned eighteen, Jules' father said that I'd be better off not inquiring any further about this business. It would only hurt me.'

'I understand', I frowned.

I took a deep breath and then I rubbed my hands against my knees. 'Well, I should have been more careful about these matters. It isn't my business really and at the same time, I should not upset you before the festival.'

'You didn't upset me. It's not something which could ever hurt me.'

I looked at her attentively and I noticed just how honest she had been, when saying so, since Rita gave no interest in melancholy against speaking of her current social situation. Her hands were resting on the cold surface of the bench and she seemed to look at the woods through the large entrance gap.

'Rita?'

I waited until she looked at me and then I smiled. 'Your hair suits you this way.'

'Well, I'm certain I'm not as pretty as some other girls around here, but I guess I should be thanking you for the compliment. I won't be receiving any once you leave this place.'

I smiled gently. 'You look very nice to me, Rita.'

She breathed in, smiled from the corner of her mouth, hiding it away delicately, and stood up. 'Alright, alright, uhm, I think I should be leaving now.'

Once more, she brushed her skirt away and then she pushed her hair behind her ear.

'I'd like to see you home, then' I added, standing up and Rita turned to stare at me frowning.

'Oh, I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble with my brother. I've said he had not been too pleased to know that I've accepted your invitation.'

I smiled to her. 'I'm not afraid of him, Rita.'

And then we stepped outside and started down the slope on the other side of the pathway. Because the pathway was not paved or straight, Rita had often difficulties keeping her skirt clean, so she had to hold it up a few times with one hand. I helped her cross certain obstacles by lending a hand which at first she was hesitant to take, but finally accepted. Her hands were cold and honest, her fingers small, and delicate. As soon as we reached pavement, however, she pulled her hand away shyly and fixed the collar from her shirt.

I dropped her by her place a few feet away, just before I saw an old figure of a man coming out form the entrance and staring at her quizzically. I felt somewhat pleased to meet up with her, as Rita had slowly begun to be my favourite person from this town. She was honest and decent, mature and she gave away the feeling of comfort to anyone in her company whom perhaps she enjoyed being with.

As I returned home and had a quiet dinner along with the other guests, refraining from commenting anything against the festival's opening ceremony on the following day, everyone, for some reason, assumed that my state of mind would be deflated from Gail's sudden disappearance. But the fact was that all I had done since meeting with Rita had been to imagine her as close to me as possible. I felt so near to her now, that the mere fact that she would be joining me tomorrow was an event in itself, my heart bounding with desire to see her again and to speak with her. There was this sudden urge to grab hold of her, to keep her close, to have her in my company, beside me, listening to her listening to me and seeing her stare back at me.

I wondered – just wondered – what would happen if ever I chose to stay here, not because I wanted to hide, but because I wished to be as close to her as ever. I pondered on whether I was in love and whether – if so –it would do that I confessed. I imagined her reaction in different stages, denial, surprise, amazement, enthusiasm, and even speculation. There was not a moment that I believed she would be in any way pleased of it. But even I considered upon this matter throughout the night, and ended up concluding that indeed – and unexpectedly – I had grown feelings for Rita Owens. I loved her. And there was nothing else I wanted either.


	5. A change of choice

**9.**

But nothing went right on the following day. For a start, it began raining so badly that everyone gathered up at the central square scattered like scarecrows once the few heavy drops of rain fell and most of them made certain to find shelter in the nearby stores and street clusters.

I had waited impatiently for Rita's coming to the motel, as she had promised since the previous day and yet, she had not managed to come at all. In fact, when the heavy rain began, I was walking up into town and so I had to reconsider my strategy and return to the motel.

Once more, there had been no sign from Gail Porter and her boyfriend, which made it clear for anyone in the motel that she had decided upon running away with him. I tried not to feel angry on Rita for wrongdoing me, and so I concentrated on imagining the both of them running off through the night, without Gail's parents' knowledge or jack's friends' approval. I imagined them making it for the train station and picking up the closest night train they could find which would depart immediately.

I watched the rain fall down incessantly and then I came out into the main hall and stared at the church doors closed, assuming that Rev Bonneville would be inside. I could see Merryweather's dog spending most of his barking at the rain, as if the silly animal could not figure out that the rain came from the sky and not from around it.

I waited and waited until a dark slim figure came by the main road, facing the church. There was a large black umbrella this person held and due to the slim figure and delicate usage of hands, I assumed it was a woman. The umbrella however obstructed my vision and I could not tell about her identity. I watched her come right through the small pathway leading to the motel and as soon as Benson spotted her, I assumed he would jump off and bark, if he hadn't known this person. But all the dog did was point up its tail and begin wagging from it. And I knew then who this person was, so I got ready to climb down the stairs and into the main hall.

I met with Rita while she had just come inside the hall, with the receptionist staring at her frowning, while she folded her umbrella and brushed the water from her clothing. Jennifer Collins was in the dining hall all on her own, when she came to see who the stranger was and she smiled when seeing the Owens girl.

'Rita! Fancy seeing you here on this weather! I take it the festival's over and done with.'

'I'm not sure. I've been up to the house all this time.'

'What happened?'

'Nothing happened, my father and brother had an argument.'

I heard her say this as I came down the stairs, unseen by the both of them. I noticed Jennifer nodded to the receptionist and then she asked that Rita follow her into the dining hall.

'I guess you're in time for some tea, is it? So what about this argument.'

'What about it?'

'Well, I assume it wasn't a pleasant one.'

Rita was asked to sit down, but she seemed to refuse, frowning. 'Well, I'm not sure as arguments go, but I had to calm them both down all afternoon.'

'And have you come here for a purpose? I suppose it's not because I've once asked you to let me do a portrait of you?'

'No, it's not because of that. I came here to apologize to Ross.'

I could see Jennifer smiling from the corner of her mouth, while I stared at the both of them from the hallway now. I'd slipped behind one side from the entrance wall to the dining hall.

'Oh, that's odd of you. I mean, you never apologize.'

'Well, it was time to make a change. I'm leaving town.'

There was a long pause, during which I startle and so did Jennifer by the looks of it. There was the smile withering off gradually, while her position straightened and she looked around confused, yet she was the only one in the dining hall along with the woman I loved.

'Leaving town? Rita, are you serious?'

'Yes, I am.

'But why? I mean, how come…? This is… what happened?'

'Nothing's happened, it's something I've planned some time ago. Would you please tell Ross that I am sorry for not coming up to fetch him for the festival? Although I think, technically, that makes no sense anymore, since it's raining.'

'Rita, I… p-please uh… where are you going?'

'It doesn't matter. I'm done here. I just came to say goodbye.'

'Rita, wait!'

But the girl turned around and left the hall, while I pulled away from sight and she did not seem to notice me. Instead, she picked up her umbrella and opened it as soon as she came out through the exit doors.

I stood there in the hallway, staring at the floor, unbelieving, while I leaned against the wall and then my sense came back to me, so before Jennifer came up through the hall and noticed me surprised, I walked out through the rain and followed the one person I ever wanted in my life.

Rita walked at a quick pace, but she was very straight and held no luggage or any such indication to let out that she would be departing from town. I walked behind her hurriedly and when I called her name, she seemed to come to a halt and startle, turning around.

'Ross?'

'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

I was angry on her for not telling me. For plotting against me, for not revealing that she would leave me alone on this. in fact, I had been so angry that my voice has raised up and Rita startled.

'Excuse me?'

'I just heard you tell Jennifer Collins you're leaving town! What the hell was that all about?! I waited for you all day and this is your excuse for being late on this?!'

'I'd advise you not to take that tone up with me, Mr. Turner, that is highly impolite of you.'

'I'll take any tone I'll like with you, since you've lied to me!'

'I didn't lie to anyone.'

'You didn't tell me you're leaving, Rita, you didn't even consider telling me now, so you've lied.'

She frowned hard and breathed through her nostrils, before she resumed her pace. 'Where are you off to? Where's your luggage? Why are you doing this?!'

I was angry enough to jerk the umbrella from her hand and then start walking beside her angrily. 'You'd do well to explain to me.'

'I will not, if you're going to behave like that. You are in no position to scream at me.'

I opened my mouth to say something nasty, but I reconsidered, taking a deep breath and I walked beside her, trying to calm down. I noticed that she was heading for the train station, so I assumed that she was serious in leaving town.

'Why are you doing this?'

She walked up at first pretending not to hear me, but finally, I could hear her breathe hard and looked at me briefly. 'I'm not doing this now. I've been planning it. I've saved money for it. I didn't expect to be doing it sooner than planned, but I was considering leaving town. And I've told no one except my step father. If it's any comfort.'

'But you've told me before that you would not leave.'

'I may have hinted, but it was never my intention to stay.'

I looked down, while we walked at a quicker pace, so I decided that it would be now or never. So I shifted the umbrella from the hand closest to her onto the other, as I slipped the now-loosened one through into her own hand. My fingers curled against her cold small hand and she startled, looking at me confused.

'Where are you going?' I asked, holding up the umbrella.

She stared at our hands strangely, unbelieving, after which she looked up hesitantly. 'I, uh… Manchester.'

'And are you leaving with someone?'

'Well…'

'I'm asking you not to lie to me about this, Rita. If there's someone already in your life, just tell me. I've got angry just now, but I won't get angry from now on, I promise.'

'No one, Ross. There's no one I'm leaving with. And there's no one in my life.'

And then she stared at my hand holding hers firmly and frowned. 'Why are you holding me like this?'

'Because I love you. And I didn't expect you to leave from my life this soon. I thought you'd reconsidered taking me to the festival. And then I assumed it was the rain that prevented you from coming to the motel. Now, you say that you're leaving town. I don't mind that, Rita, but I would if you didn't tell me that you had someone you love.'

'You love me?'

I held her hand firmly, almost making her open her mouth from the sudden pain of the squeeze. 'Yes, I do. There's nothing or anyone else that I want at this point.'

'But you didn't tell me.'

'Well, I've been up all night trying to find a way to tell you today. And now I have. On the way to the train station, I assume.'

'But I thought…'

'You thought?'

'I thought you saw me as a friend. Or someone you enjoyed the company of and that was it. I didn't expect you to grow feelings on me.'

'Well, everyone's done mistakes before. But this one I won't regret. Perhaps you might not share these feelings, but I don't care anymore. I'm very much in love with you, Rita, and I don't mind it the least if you aren't.'

And then she jerked her hand and pulled away. 'Oh, there you go away, speaking to me as if I were a child! And you've told me nothing of your feelings!'

'Well, you've told me nothing of your leaving! I guess we're even.'

I tried taking her hand in mine once more, but she prevented this by pulling it behind her. 'So, you did not understand it.'

'Understand what?'

'I've told you of my feelings yesterday when you asked me of them. You are not indifferent to me. Perhaps I may not share them at the same intensity, but they are there. And now you think I've lied and that I did not tell you. But I have, foolish Ross!'

She tried slipping off her hand from mine, but I pulled up my arm around her neck and before she realized, I kissed her. Her arms slipped under mine and she pressed my back with both of them gently. My other hand lost control and I dropped the umbrella, but the kiss ceased as soon as the rain fell upon us. We quickly woke up and I relifted the umbrella above our heads.

'Ross!'

'Sorry, love!'

I then took her hand and then we continue dour walk towards the station. 'So, I assume you go to see your parents then?'

She nodded. 'Yes.'

'I suppose you have no time to tell me the story now.'

'I'm afraid not. I will be leaving in an hour and I need to buy the train ticket.'

We reached the train station and as soon as I noticed the building, I held her hand firmly. She stared at it before she frowned at me. 'I will not be able to come with you, Rita, you know that.'

'I know. But I can wait.'

We stopped just before the building entrance and I frowned at her. 'What do you mean?'

'If you say that you have the feelings you have for me, then I will wait for you to come after me. If you do not, then I suspect you will be man enough to tell me, so that I would not wait forever.'

I said nothing, but brushed my hand against her cheek slowly and she seemed to feel strange about it, pulling her face away. 'Alright. When I've sorted out some things, then I will come for you, Rita.'

She nodded and then she looked away, straightening up her clothing. For the first time, I noticed she had worn a pair of jeans and a plain blouse, along with a long leather jacket. She looked very different from how I knew her before, but at least her hair was loosened and now her frown was lighter.

'You can keep the umbrella, Ross, I'll have one on the other side when I arrive.'

'I'll bring it with me when we meet.'

She turned around and headed for the building door. But before she opened it, she stopped and turned around to look at me. 'Don't make me wait for a long time, though.'

I smiled gently. 'I promise not to.'

End


End file.
